Just Something About You (Olicity One Shots)
by spaztronaut
Summary: A collection of Olicity One Shots. Probably mostly fluffy in nature. Canon, AU's, whatever. Prompts welcome ;) Ch. 17. #workoutpartners: A follow up to ch. 15. Felicity works out with Oliver and receives some news about the role she auditioned for.
1. Running is the Worst

**I needed some silly, happy fluff after tonight's episode, so this happened.**

 **If anyone has a prompt, feel free to send it in :)**

When Felicity signed up for a gym membership with her friend Iris, she never expected to be roped into training for a half marathon.

"Iris," Felicity groaned from her spot at the front desk, "You know me. I will never be able to run that far. Ever."

"Sure you will," Iris told her, with that fake 'you can do anything' smile she used when she was trying to guilt Felicity into things that Felicity did not want to do. "Running is great exercise. Besides, if we sign up now we'll save money on the training course."

"I know how to save us even more money," Felicity countered. "By not signing up at all."

"Felicity... I want to do it," Iris whined. "I've always wanted to run a marathon."

"Half marathon," Felicity huffed in exasperation. "Are you actually going to do this, Iris? Or is it going to be like that yoga class you made me take?"

"I really enjoyed that yoga class," Iris defended.

"Yeah, the one time you showed up for it."

"Hey," Iris said, pointing a finger in Felicity's direction. "It's not my fault that I got busy at work."

Felicity cocked an eyebrow at that and Iris had the decency to look sheepish.

"Fine," she admitted. "I hated yoga. The teacher was too bendy, it made me self conscious. But that is not the case this time. I really want to run a marathon."

"Half marathon," Felicity corrected.

"Exactly, half marathon." Iris smiled, ignoring Felicity's annoyance. "So it should be easy. Plus, the running coach is hot."

Felicity looked at her questioningly, but she just smirked, tipping her chin towards something on the wall behind them. Felicity spun to see a poster for the half marathon training program and on it was a picture of the hottest guy she had ever seen. He had short cropped blonde hair, just the right amount of scruff on his jaw, and broad, well-muscled shoulders and arms.

"That's just some model," Felicity said, shaking her head.

"Oh, really," Iris grinned. "Then why does it say 'Train with personal trainer Oliver Queen' directly under his picture?"

"I..." Felicity stared at the poster, or really, the picture. How could someone possibly be so attractive?

"That's what I thought," Iris said, and Felicity didn't need to look at her to know she was still smirking. "Sign the paper, Smoak."

So Felicity signed up for the class.

After all, if she and Iris were going to get healthy and work out, they might as well do it while looking at a really hot guy, right?

•••

"I can't believe you're doing this to me!" Felicity hissed into her phone.

It was only 7:00am on a Saturday and she was already in her workout gear, standing near the main entrance to the gym. There were a few people gathered around, waiting for their trainer to take them out to the park for their first class. The one person not there?

"Iris! I will kill you!" Felicity said to her best friend's voicemail. "You promised you wouldn't do this."

"Good morning, everyone!"

The deep male voice startled Felicity and she spun to see their trainer, Oliver Queen, standing in front of the group in sweatpants and a green hoodie.

"You'd better be dead or halfway to Mexico the next time I see you, or else you'll be sorry!" Felicity quickly snarled into her phone before slipping it into the phone holder she'd bought specifically for working out.

She didn't notice that Oliver was close enough to hear her until he said, "Well, if we're all done with the death threats, let's head over to the park."

Felicity blushed, but Oliver only smiled back warmly. His eyes trailed over her and she swore they lingered on her butt for a moment, before shooting back up to her face, and then back to the rest of the group.

He introduced himself and had everyone exchange names before he got down to business.

"We'll go over stretching techniques once we get to the park and then we'll start off with a brisk jog."

He clapped his hands together once, then took off at what Felicity already considered a brisk jog. And to her utter horror, everyone else in the class seemed to be keeping up with him without a problem.

By the time they made it to the park, only a block and a half away, Felicity was breathing heavily. She followed along through all the stretching and then managed to catch her second wind for the jog. But when Oliver told them to do one final lap around the park before calling it a day, Felicity knew she was in trouble.

Apparently everyone who signed up for this class was more prepared than Felicity's forty minutes on the treadmill every other day. The group took off—some of them even racing—without a complaint. Felicity followed along as best she could, but was ready to call it quits by the halfway point.

Oliver sidled up next to her. _Where did he come from?_ she thought. He wasn't even breathing heavy, ugh.

"You doing okay? You look like you might need a break," he said, and she tried to play down her embarrassment over him noticing she was struggling.

"I know it's cheating," she said, coming to a stop and wiping the sweat from her forehead, "but if I asked you to carry me, would you?" She laughed, trying to cover her need to gulp in a breath.

Oliver smiled and glanced around. None of the other runners were around, Felicity realized suddenly, because they were all ahead of her. Then Oliver bent forward a little and said, "Hop on," and she wasn't really thinking about the other runners anymore.

"Oh!" Felicity said, flustered by his offer. "I was... I was just joking. You don't—"

"It's Felicity, right?" he asked, startling her a little.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Yes. I'm Felicity. Smoak."

Oliver grinned and Felicity felt her heart speed up, and it had nothing to do with all the running she'd been doing this morning.

"Hop on, Felicity," he said, leaning forward so she could climb onto his back.

Carefully, Felicity did just that, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. But really, her super hot running coach was giving her a piggy back ride. A girl could only handle so much.

"You know, I'm not really doing you any favors by doing this," he teased, after a minute of walking.

His warm palms on the back of her thighs had her thinking just how wrong he was.

Those palms tightened, as if in a spasm, and Oliver stumbled slightly. It was the first time she'd seen him do that all morning.

"Uh..." he muttered, straightening himself out. "I meant, as far as the half marathon goes," he explained, much to Felicity's confusion. Until she realized...

"Ugh. I said that out loud, didn't I? My brain chooses the worst times to betray me."

Like when she was riding her hot running coach. Not riding! No, not that. Just... getting a lift.

Suddenly, she wasn't sure what to do with her hands. They'd been resting on Oliver's shoulders, but now that she'd clearly made him uncomfortable, touching him, even innocently, seemed too intimate.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You can put me down if you want. You don't have to—"

His big palms squeezed her thighs again, but this time to cut off her argument.

"Felicity," he said, and she hoped he couldn't feel the shutter that ran down her spine. "I don't offer piggy back rides to just any client, you know."

"No?" she asked, and then slammed her eyes shut at the sound of her voice. He was carrying her, for crying out loud, she shouldn't sound so breathless still.

"No," he said, and she could hear the humor in his voice.

"I guess I'm special, then." She laughed, then got nervous when he didn't respond immediately. "I didn't mean that you considered me special or—"

"Felicity," he laughed, hiking her up his back with a quick bounce, a move that had Felicity fighting back a gasp. He reached up and tugged Felicity's arms until they were wrapped tight around his neck, instead of fluttering around his shoulders like they'd been doing. "Hold on to me tight," he whispered.

And Felicity did. Oh, boy, did she ever.

•••

Oliver didn't stop and let her down once they came into view of the rest of the group, like Felicity thought he would. Instead he carried her all the way to the finish line they'd established in the beginning of class, only placing her on her feet to go over the cool down exercises.

"You want a lift back to the gym?" he asked with a teasing smirk once they'd finished.

"I think I can handle it," Felicity grinned back. But to her pleasure, Oliver didn't jog back with the rest of the class. He walked quietly beside her, keeping her company.

"I take it you signed up for this program with a friend?" Oliver asked as they walked. "And that's who you were threatening with bodily harm earlier?"

Felicity laughed.

"My friend Iris," she explained, shaking her head. "She talked me into signing up even though I didn't want to, then left me hanging this morning."

"Well," Oliver said slowly, sounding a little unsure. "Before you kill her or run her out of the country, will you thank her for me?"

Felicity paused outside the gym doors, cocking her head to the side. "Why?" she asked.

"Because without her I wouldn't have..." He glanced away, looking distinctly nervous, before he met her eyes again. "Without her I wouldn't have had the pleasure of meeting you."

Felicity felt her cheeks flush. "Oh."

"And that would have been a shame." His smile was warm as he took a small step closer to her. "Felicity, would you... I mean, if you'd like to, I was thinking..."

"Usually, I'm the one speaking in sentence fragments," she laughed. His nervousness was endearing and she couldn't stop grinning at him.

Oliver huffed a laugh of his own, before taking a deep breath. "Would you like to get breakfast with me, Felicity?"

"Yes," she said, her smile splitting her face. "I'm starving."

"Okay, it's a date then," he said, pulling open the gym door for her. "I'll meet you back here in twenty minutes?"

"Mhmm," she nodded, her cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but she didn't care. He was smiling just as much.

Felicity pulled her phone out as she made her way to the women's locker room. She needed to change and make herself presentable for a date, even if it was only breakfast. But first...

"Felicity," Iris answered on the fourth ring. "I'm so sorry. I overslept. I didn't mean to bail on you—"

"Relax," Felicity said with a laugh. "It's fine."

There was a brief pause and then a cautious, "What do you mean 'it's fine'?"

"I mean," Felicity grinned, holding the phone against her ear as she opened her locker, "that I forgive you."

"You do?"

"Yup. No need to book the first flight to Mexico," Felicity joked, tugging her sundress out of the locker. She was grateful she'd picked something cute to wear this morning. She'd almost worn her old MIT hoodie and yoga pants. What a mistake that would have been.

There was another pause, in which Felicity could practically hear the wheels in Iris's head turning. "And what has you in such a forgiving mood?"

"What? I'm not allowed to forgive my best friend?" Felicity asked, but before Iris could respond, she added, "Got to go, Iris. I've got a breakfast date I've got to get to."

"A what?!" Iris shrieked into the phone. "Felicity Smoak, who are you having a breakfast date with? Is it the teacher? Oh, Felicity, please tell me it's with that sexy as hell teacher!"

"I've got to go, Iris," Felicity smirked into her phone. "If you wanted the details you should have come to class."

"Felicity!"

But she was already hanging up and tugging her sweaty sports tank over her head. She had a date to get to.


	2. Queen of Thieves

**I wasn't supposed to write this Heist Society AU. I sat down to write something else and this is what I ended up with instead. I am not sorry. Any day I accidentally mashup Olicity and one of my favorite books is a good day.**

 ***I might not be done playing in this universe.**

"Felicity, have you ever heard of hacktivism?"

Felicity stood in the middle of the quad, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. They'd only been dating, officially, for a month, but they'd been friends since her sophomore year, so she knew where this conversation was likely headed.

"Of course, I've heard of hacktivism, Cooper," she said. "I'm a hacker."

Cooper grinned, speeding up so he could walk backwards ahead of her. "Exactly, you're just a hacker. But we could be heroes, babe."

"And how, exactly, does wiping out a bunch of student loan debt turn us into heroes?" she questioned, tipping her head to the side, causing a few long, black strands of hair to fall into her face.

He'd been pitching this idea ever since Felicity explained what her theoretical 'super virus' would be capable of. She knew Cooper had a bit of a Robin Hood fixation, but she'd hoped after shooting him down the first two times he'd have called it quits on the stealing-from-the-rich-to-keep-the-poor-out-of-debt plan. He had no idea the kind of life something like that led to...

Cooper stopped walking, reaching out to grab her shoulders. "The amount of money they charge for college is insane, Felicity. You know you wouldn't have been able to afford MIT without your scholarships. Neither would I. They're putting kids into debt just to line their pockets..."

Cooper kept talking, going on about the corruption of the educational system and the greed of big business. Something like that, Felicity wasn't sure. The only thing she could focus on was the familiar face she'd suddenly noticed across the quad.

And he'd noticed her, too.

Had been noticing her, in fact. He'd been watching her, quietly leaning back against the wall of the student union, his ankles crossed, hands stuffed into his pockets. A small smirk ticked up the corner of his mouth when she finally noticed him and he pushed off the wall, walking over to where she and Cooper were standing.

Felicity felt her whole world slowing down and somehow spinning out of control all at once with each step he took.

He was here. Right here.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

They'd promised her.

"You went goth," he said as he finally stopped beside them, smile still on his lips, hands still stuffed into the pockets of his peacoat. He looked casual, but Felicity knew him too well to buy it. He wasn't any happier about him being here then she was.

Cooper's mouth slammed shut and he spun around to see who was interrupting him. That's when Felicity realized she'd tuned him out while he'd been talking openly, in a very public area, about committing a felony. Did Felicity know how to pick 'em or what?

"What the hell do you want?" Cooper scowled at the newcomer, taking in his expensive peacoat and designer jeans with disdain. To Cooper, this was just another spoiled rich frat boy.

To Felicity it was her past coming back to bite her in the ass.

"Oliver, what are you doing here?" she asked. She kept her voice low because maybe he wasn't real. Maybe this was some bizarre hallucination or dream and she'd wake up back in her dorm and Oliver Queen would not be standing in the middle of the MIT campus staring at her.

Even though his small smile never wavered, Felicity could see the regret flash through his blue eyes before his walls slammed down and his expression went blank. Typical Oliver. Slowly, he dragged his gaze from her, only to pin it on Cooper.

"Hi," he said, holding out a hand. "I'm Oliver Queen."

Cooper ignored his offered hand, furrowing his brow at the name. "Queen?" he repeated. "As in Queen Consolidated? As in you're the heir to the Queen fortune?"

Oliver smirked, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. "Well, I like to think I'm more than just my family's money, but yes. I'm that Oliver Queen. And if you don't mind," Oliver added, turning toward Felicity, "I would love a minute to catch up with my girl, here."

Cooper bristled, whether at the dismissal or Oliver's familiarity with her, Felicity didn't know. Honestly, she didn't care.

"I'm not your girl, Oliver," she said, scowling at him.

Oliver just smiled, and damn him, it was a real one. A full, one hundred watt grin, as he said, "You'll always be my girl, Felicity."

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, Richy Rich, but you can go fu—"

"Cooper! Give us a minute," Felicity snapped, but she never took her eyes off of Oliver.

"Felicity?"

She glanced back at her boyfriend. He was staring at her, wide eyed and open mouthed. "Just go," she told him. "I'll come over your room in a little while."

After a few tense moments, Cooper grit his teeth and stormed off in the direction of the dorms. Great, now she was going to have to deal with his attitude later...

"Please, tell me you're not sleeping with that idiot," Oliver said on a soft sigh, like he was truly disappointed in her taste in men.

It irritated the hell out of her.

"He's a genius," she said, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

Oliver rolled his eyes, tilting his head back and staring up at the sky as if for strength. "Because IQ score is the only factor in whether or not someone's worthy of you."

"Why do you care who's worthy of me?" she snapped at him. Who the hell did he think he was?

He didn't answer, but she could see the muscles in his jaw ticking under his skin. Then, in the blink of an eye, he switched on that Ollie Queen charm.

"I liked you better in your glasses," he smiled, the tension from a moment ago completely forgotten. He reached out, tugging on a lock of her dark hair and she batted his hand away. "You stopped dying it."

"I'm trying something new," she muttered, trying to ignore how his sudden switch in demeanor caught her off guard. She hadn't seen him in years, she wasn't used to his moodiness anymore.

"It's working for you," he said, eyeing her up and down, taking in her cargo pants and leather jacket. Finally, he looked up with a dazzling smile. "Gotta say, I do miss the ponytail though."

"What are you doing here, Oliver?" She straightened her spine and looked him in the eye. She would not let him charm her. Those days were long gone and she had a life here. She wouldn't let him distract her from it.

"It's your father," Oliver said, and for a split second, the look in his eye had her frozen in fear. What'd happened to her father that had Oliver Queen tracking her down at MIT to tell her in person? But then Oliver shook his head and said, "He's been arrested."

The fear she'd felt dissipated in a flash, only to be replaced by anger and annoyance and, well, a different kind of fear. Her father had been arrested...

"Of course, he's been arrested. He's a thief," Felicity muttered, to herself or to Oliver, she didn't know. She turned and walked away, not sure where she was going, but her hands were shaking and if she was going to have a breakdown she needed to not be in the middle of campus when it happened.

"This is serious, Felicity," Oliver said, following after her. "Interpol picked him up yesterday in Paris."

"What was he stealing this time?" she asked, and she was almost impressed at how calm she sounded when the lump in her throat felt like it might actually choke her.

Oliver didn't answer right away and Felicity turned to see his eyes shift back and forth once. Oliver's go-to guilty look. "It might have had something to do with the Skeleton Key," he mumbled.

"The Skeleton Key," she growled, then at the look on Oliver's face, she threw her hands up in the air. "It's a myth!"

The Skeleton Key was her father's white whale—a be-all end-all piece of technology that could supposedly unlock any door—and, in the years since she'd met Oliver, it had become his, as well.

"We had good intel." He shrugged, looking slightly lost. Which he probably was, considering his mentor was currently in protective custody halfway around the world for grand larceny.

"You helped him?" she snarled, and he took a quick step back, pulling his hands from his pockets to hold them up in a placating gesture.

"William Tockman surfaced in Paris," he explained. "He was living in a multimillion dollar apartment with a Picasso hanging in the guest bathroom." Oliver made a face. "He has the Skeleton Key, I know he does. Tockman's not that good a thief."

"Cause, God forbid, someone out there is better at stealing things than you or my father," Felicity hissed at him.

"There's only one person I know that's better at stealing things than me or your father," he said with a small shake of his head, stepping closer to her. "And it isn't William Tockman."

Felicity narrowed her eyes. "Is that why you're here?" she asked. "You're not here to tell me about my father, Oliver. You're here because my father getting arrested interrupted whatever con you're pulling and you need me to finish it."

"I'm here for a lot of reasons," he said ambiguously. "But, yes. I need you. You're father needs you."

"My father needs a lawyer," Felicity said, shaking her head and turning away again, when a large, warm hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her back toward him.

"Noah needs you," he breathed, leaning in closer than Felicity was comfortable with. His face was less than a foot from her's, his warm breath fanning across her cheeks. "Interpol didn't catch him because we slipped up. They caught him because we were set up."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Felicity demanded, wrenching herself from his grasp and taking a step back.

Oliver hadn't been a great thief went she'd first met him. To this day he was still a lousy pickpocket. But the one thing Oliver had always been good at was conning people. The touching, the soft tone of voice, the lingering glances... They were all just weapons in his arsenal and she would not allow herself to be conned by him. Not again.

Oliver's blue eyes hardened. "Malcolm," was all he said.

To anyone else, it was just a name. To Felicity Smoak, that name was the equivalent of summoning the devil himself.

"Malcolm Merlyn is in prison," she argued.

"No," Oliver said, his gaze fixing on a spot over Felicity's head. "I called Tommy. Malcolm was released two weeks ago. I'm not sure how it got passed us."

"Because we weren't looking for it," Felicity mumbled, glancing over at a group of students playing with a skateboard. A guy, not much older than Felicity's nineteen years, was trying to do a kickflip. He kept stumbling, but hadn't fallen yet.

"Malcolm was supposed to be in prison for at least two more years before they considered parole," she said, turning back to Oliver. "Why would they let him out early?"

"I don't know," Oliver said, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Tommy said something about the lawyers finding new evidence. Malcolm must have given them something on Noah. And I'd bet you my Ducati he didn't do it out of guilt. He's got a plan."

"Oh, no," Felicity said, mockingly. "Not your Ducati." But she was grinning, despite the fact that her father's ex-partner was ten moves ahead of them in a game they hadn't even known they were playing.

"We need your help, Felicity," Oliver said, his voice soft and earnest.

Felicity let the sound ripple through her memories, hundreds of memories of him speaking to her in that voice that he only ever seemed to use on her. But she wouldn't give in to it. She couldn't. If Malcolm was getting her father out of the way it meant that, whatever he was up to, it was big. And the timing of her father being arrested, just when William Tockman and his rumored Skeleton Key resurface, didn't sit well with her either. Whatever Malcolm wanted, whatever his game was, they needed to stop it.

Her father might be a thief, but Malcolm Merlyn was the devil. Nothing good had ever come from that man except his son, Tommy. Who knows what Malcolm would do with a mythical key that could unlock anything? No, he couldn't be allowed to get his hands on it.

If it truly existed, that is.

"If we're going to do this," Felicity said, taking a deep breath, "then the first thing is to verify that the Skeleton Key exists, and that it's what Malcolm is after."

Oliver tried to hide his pleased smile by glancing down at his phone, but Felicity could see his dimples peeking out.

"I told you. We had good intel," he said, tapping out a message on his phone. "I'll have Cisco forward it to your phone so you can take a look."

"Cisco..." Felicity trailed off with a grin, thinking about her old friend. "Who else is still working with you?"

"Almost everyone. Especially after what happened to Noah," Oliver said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He wasn't trying to hide his smile anymore, and Felicity felt it's full effect when he met her eyes.

She'd always gotten lost in those blue eyes. It was her one weakness. It had been ever since the day she'd turned fifteen and tried to steal a Rembrandt from the Queen mansion just to prove to her father that she could. That day had changed her life forever. It had also changed Oliver's, but she wasn't sorry for it.

Stealing, taking things that didn't belong to you just because you could, it didn't sit well with Felicity anymore. But she'd never be sorry for stealing from the Queen's that day, because it wasn't a painting she'd taken from the mansion. No, Felicity had stolen something much more valuable. She'd stolen a friend, a companion, a partner in crime. Literally. And, at the time, she hadn't ever planned on giving him back.

But it hadn't gone to plan—the important jobs never did—so now here she was, standing in the middle of MIT, in the middle of the new start she'd fought so hard for, ready to run away with the guy she'd been in love with for nearly five years. The guy who broke her heart, whether he realized it or not. And the only thing she could do was laugh and hope he couldn't hear the pain beneath it.

"Even Dig?" she asked.

Oliver pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. "Do you really think Oliver Queen's bodyguard would let him run around the world with a band of international thieves alone?"

"You still refer to yourself in the third person, I see," she said, scrunching her nose up. "I'd kinda hoped you'd outgrown that."

"You and Dig, both," he laughed, then pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the main drive. "Speaking of which, he's waiting for us by the town car."

"Dig's here?" she asked, voice rising in excitement. She'd always loved Dig, like he was the brother she'd never had.

"Yes," Oliver said, gesturing for her to walk with him, his hand hovering over her lower back. "So if we can just go grab your stuff and be on our way..."

Felicity had fought for MIT. She'd fought her father, she'd fought Oliver, she'd fought herself. But, now, she didn't have much choice. If Noah was in trouble because of Malcolm Merlyn, then Felicity had to help him. MIT was important, but it wasn't as important as family.

"You'll come back," Oliver said softly, grabbing her attention. "Once we stop Merlyn and get Noah out of trouble. I'll bring you back myself."

But his blue eyes were shining and she was terrified that if she spent anymore time with him she might not want to come back at all. It had been hard enough to leave him the first time.

"I promise you, Felicity. I'll do everything in my power to give you the life you deserve."

"Okay," she choked out, ignoring the way her heart leaped at his promise. She couldn't deal with the connotations of it right now. They had bigger problems than Felicity's childhood crush on a man who would probably never see her as anything more than the girl who'd broken into his house one night and taught him how to be a thief.

Oliver nodded back, a soft 'okay' escaping his lips as he steered her in the direction of the dorms so she could grab her personal belongings.

They had a huge task ahead of them—Malcolm Merlyn wasn't a man to be trifled with—but she was confident that they could outthink him.

She and Oliver were a team. They'd always been a team. And they were a good one.

"Damn right we are," Oliver said beside her and Felicity glanced up, already feeling the flush heat her cheeks.

"How much of that did I say out loud?" she groaned, pressing a hand over her eyes.

Oliver grinned, finally pressing his hand to her waist and tugging her into his side.

"I'll never tell," he laughed, pulling her along.

And, despite her embarrassment over her non-existent brain to mouth filter, she laughed right along with him, because it was Oliver. And because after two and a half years away from her friends and family—two and a half years where the most interesting thing she'd done was accidentally eat a pot brownie—Felicity could admit, she was actually more than a little excited to get back in the game.


	3. The Vows

**This is what happens when I'm sick. Sick!me likes angst, but sick!me also has brain fog so… I hope this doesn't suck.**

 **I'm just really kind of psyched for this whole fake wedding thing, because I want angst, and a fake wedding seems like the perfect environment for it.**

It was Felicity's decision.

That should have made her feel better about it. It didn't.

Carrie 'Crazy Pants Cupid' Cutter was back in town, killing innocent couples on their wedding day, because since her last two crushes—Deadshot and the Arrow—had both died, she'd lost her faith in love.

Felicity could sympathize. Not with the killing part, that part was pure crazy town, but the feeling of losing her faith in love.

It had been one month. One month since she'd given Oliver back the ring, one month since she'd moved into an apartment with her mother, one month since she'd felt anywhere near happy. Felicity could understand how that unhappiness, that loneliness, might eventually drive someone crazy.

She also understood that someone needed to stop Cupid, before she struck again. Felicity might not be engaged to Oliver Queen anymore, but she was still the Green Arrow's partner and that was what they did. They stopped the bad guys, no matter what. So Felicity suggested the one thing she new would draw out Cupid without putting innocents at risk.

"We should get married," she'd suggested casually, hoping her voice didn't betray her. Because, brilliant plan aside, fake marrying her ex-fiancé didn't sound like a whole lot of fun at the moment.

The shock on Oliver's face nearly had her backtracking, but he'd reigned in his emotions quickly enough, telling her it was out of the question, so of course she'd dug her heels in. Diggle didn't seem to like the idea either, but Laurel and Thea agreed that it was a good plan. Oliver was overruled and, eventually, had to agree. But Dig asked her, every time he got her alone, if she really wanted to go through with this.

He knew how hard it would be, for her and for Oliver, to hold a fake wedding when they should have been holding a real one instead. She loved him for that, but they didn't have a choice. Her plan was solid and they were going through with it.

That's how Felicity found herself standing at the alter in a wedding dress, facing Oliver Queen, as an A.R.G.U.S. agent pretend officiated their fake wedding.

It was hard, just as Felicity knew it would be. It took everything in her not to cry as she'd walked down the aisle. She was pretty sure Oliver teared up a little, but she couldn't bring herself to really look at him. She was just focusing on the knot of his tie and trying not to break down before Cupid showed up to kill them.

Which was a sentence Felicity never thought she'd think, even with their lives being what they were.

"Cupid's on the premises," Laurel's voice sounded through the comm link in her ear and Felicity finally glanced up at Oliver. "Might want to get the party started, guys. She's on her way in."

Oliver held her gaze for a moment, his blue eyes sad, but he looked ready. Ready to stop Cupid or just ready for this fake wedding to be over? Felicity decided it didn't matter. She wanted it to all be over too. This might have been a great plan, but it was a terrible idea.

Oliver nodded at the fake officiant that it was time, and the woman skipped right along to the vows since Cupid, apparently, only struck after the vows. Of course, she did because killing everyone before the wedding wouldn't be poetic enough. No, Cupid wanted to witness the couple's love before she destroyed it.

Felicity was dreading that part, but not for the arrow-y death reasons one might expect. She didn't want to have to _say_ the vows. She didn't want to do it if it wasn't real. Oliver looked like he was feeling the same way and Felicity cursed herself for doing this to them. Standing next to him in the dress was hard enough, saying 'I do' was something else entirely.

"Repeat after me," the woman from A.R.G.U.S. said to Oliver, sounding every inch like the officiant she was pretending to be. "I take you, Felicity Smoak, to be my lawfully wedded wife."

Oliver took a deep breath and met Felicity's eyes. "I take you..." He swallowed hard. "I..."

"Cupid's inside, she's watching you guys," Dig announced through the comms. "Give us time to get into position, but don't finish the vows until we've got her."

"Got it," Oliver said, softly. Then he closed his eyes briefly, before looking at the A.R.G.U.S. agent. "I wrote my own vows, can I read them instead?"

The agent nodded, gesturing for Oliver to go ahead, but Felicity wanted to say no. She wanted to run away from whatever Oliver wanted to say, because no matter what it was, it was going to feel as if Cupid pierced her heart with an arrow. She knew it would.

"Felicity," Oliver began, drawing out her name in that slow, sweet way only he ever had. She saw the tiniest flash of regret in his eyes before he forged ahead. "I know I haven't always been the best partner to you..."

She couldn't do this. What made her think she could handle this? She glanced down, memorizing the barely-there checkered pattern on his black silk tie, and tried to steel herself.

"But I want to be better, so I have a confession." Felicity couldn't help but glance up at that and was caught off guard by the small smile playing in his lips. "The first time I saw you," he began, "wasn't when I brought you that laptop. It was seven years ago."

Felicity's lips parted in surprise, because... WHAT?!

"I told you I came back to Starling once while I was... away. I needed something from Queen Consolidated and ran into you while trying to get it. Or, almost anyway. You were standing in my mother's office, talking to an old photo of me and I couldn't help but smile. Smiling wasn't something I did much back then," he said with a self-deprecating grin as if to prove his point. "But you looked at that terrible photo of me and my dad and said, 'You're cute,' and I'm pretty sure part of me fell in love with you right then and there. When I walked into your office three years later with that laptop, all I could give you were terrible excuses because it was _you_. The cute blonde from QC. I wasn't prepared for you, Felicity, especially not back then. I was a wreck.

"When I came back from the island, I was scared to death that the people I cared about would find out what I was. That they would take one look at me and realize I was a murderer. A villain. But not with you." He smiled, looking a little amazed. "God, Felicity, with you it... From the moment I saw you I trusted you. With my secrets, with my life."

He looked down, another self deprecating smile on his lips.

"I kept justifying it, telling myself the mission needed someone with your skill-set, and it did, but... But I wanted you there, too. I needed you. The way you could always make me smile, no matter what was going on. No one else has ever had that effect on me. You were like a ray of sunshine in my bleak world and I needed that, maybe more than I needed that genius brain of yours." He grinned again, his eyes glassy, but Felicity felt frozen in place as he continued. "You have never let me down. Not once have I ever regretted letting you into my life. You've always believed in me, even when I didn't deserve it. You have been there for me, over and over again. And I know I haven't always been there for you the way I should, but I want to be. I told you I'm trying, Felicity, and I am, because I want to be a man that deserves you. I will never stop trying to—"

A crash jerked them both out of the moment, and they turned to see Cupid flying through the doors into the wedding hall, Thea quick on her heels. Dig followed behind, his gun drawn, while Laurel burst through the back entrance, motioning for Felicity and Oliver to get out before they got caught in the crossfire. The A.R.G.U.S. agent drew a gun from her waistband, ready, but waiting to see how the scuffle turned out before making a move.

Oliver urged Felicity towards Laurel, making sure to put himself between her and the fight. They kept low, getting out of the fray, but Oliver wouldn't leave entirely. Not until Cupid was down for the count.

It didn't take long.

Thea caught Cupid off guard with a roundhouse kick and, while she stumbled back, Dig shot her with a tranquilizer. Once she was down, the A.R.G.U.S. agent called in back up and soon enough Carrie was being shipped off to god only knows where.

Felicity thought about asking Dig where Lyla was keeping A.R.G.U.S. prisoners nowadays and if the Suicide Squad was still a thing, but decided she'd rather not know.

"Felicity," Oliver called out to her after everything was over and she was heading off toward the back room that contained her street clothes. As far as she was concerned, the sooner she could take off this dress, the better, but Oliver didn't seem to share her opinion.

"Yeah?" she asked, spinning back to him, forcing a smile, because she just couldn't let him see how this whole thing had affected her. Especially, since it was her stupid idea to begin with.

Oliver smiled back, his hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck nervously. "I'm sorry, for all of that." He gestured vaguely back toward the dais in the front of the hall. "I just... I know you need space, but I wanted you to know how I feel. That I'm not giving up on us."

"Oliver," she sighed.

"I know that I messed up. I know that I need to stop keeping secrets. I don't even want to keep secrets from you."

"But you keep doing it, anyway."

"I know," he said, at her tired tone. "I know I messed everything up with this lie. I want to fix it."

"You can't just..." she trailed off, closing her eyes and taking a breath. She didn't want to turn this into a fight, because Oliver meant well, he just didn't understand. And now really wasn't the time to explain it.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this right now, Oliver," Felicity said firmly, turning to leave, but a light touch on her elbow stopped her. She spun back to see Oliver's pleading gazing fixed on her.

"Felicity, just let me—"

"No!" she shouted at him, suddenly angry. "I am wearing my wedding dress, Oliver! I cannot talk to you about this right now!"

Oliver blinked, looking like she'd just torn his heart out of his chest. Her own tears were pushing behind her eyes, ready to burst out at any moment.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, but the dam had already burst and Felicity couldn't seem to stop herself.

"You say that you don't want to keep secrets, you say you've always trusted me, you say you've wanted me involved in your life since the beginning. Since _before_ the beginning," she laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "You say all of these perfect things, Oliver, but you've proven the exact opposite, over and over again. After our first date you decided, unilaterally, that it was over. Without even asking me what I wanted."

"That was—" he tried to explain.

"And then again when you went to fight Ra's al Ghul on that mountain," Felicity cut him off, her voice rising now, getting louder with each point she made. The whole team could probably hear her, but she didn't care. "You didn't consult me, your teammate, your partner. You just went off to die. Decision made. You barely even said goodbye. And then you came back and I thought, like an idiot, that maybe you'd learned something after almost dying. That you'd changed. But then you decided, again unilaterally, that you were going to work with Malcolm Merlyn. And again when you went to save him from Ra's. And _then again_ ," Felicity said, almost hysterically, throwing her hands in the air, "when you signed on to be Nanda Parbat's Next Top Assassin."

"I had no choice!" Oliver interrupted. "I had to save Thea."

"I know," Felicity said, seriously, lowering her voice. She couldn't fault him for the decision to save his sister. She never would. "But you never told us, you never told _me_ , that you were plotting a suicide mission with Malcolm. You trusted Malcolm over me and Dig! Your partners!"

"We've been through this," Oliver said, shaking his head.

"Yes," Felicity said, all of her anger fading away into disappointment. "We have. We've been through this a dozen times and you never learn. It's a pattern with you and I'm not marrying a man that makes decisions—huge decisions that impact our life together—without including me in the discussion. I can't do that, Oliver. My father did that to me, and Cooper did that—"

"Felicity, I am not your father or Cooper," Oliver said, reaching for her, but she took a quick step back. She tried really hard to ignore the way his face crumpled.

"No, you're not," she agreed. "You are so much worse than either of them. Because I keep falling for it. I keep coming back, thinking _this is the time_. This is the time you'll change. But you never do, Oliver."

"I have changed," he argued. She could hear the tears in his gritty tone, just as easily as she could see them in his eyes.

"No," Felicity said. "You want to change. But wanting to do something and actually doing it are two different things. You keep secrets and you make decisions without me, over and over again. And I can't live like that. I won't." She closed her eyes and a fresh wave of tears trailed from between her lashes. "What happens when we have children? Will you keep secrets and push us away at the first sign of danger? Because you think it's the noble thing to do?"

"I wouldn't—"

"I know you, Oliver. You would. You did it to William."

"William was different," he said, pointing a finger in her direction. "Samantha and William never signed up for this life."

"That's right," she agreed. "They didn't. But I did, and you still won't let me in when it comes to making decisions. I won't start a life with a man that doesn't include me in his. I won't let you do to me or our children what my father did to me and my mother, even if it is for noble reasons."

She looked back up at Oliver, hardening her gaze, despite her tears. There were tear tracks on his cheeks as well, and it hurt to know she'd put them there, but it was necessary. He had to know why she was doing this to them. He needed to understand.

His lips parted and he sucked in a breath like he was about to speak, but he didn't say anything. His gaze dropped to her dress, but she wasn't sure he was actually seeing it. He looked like he was in his head and Felicity didn't know if that was a good thing or not. She couldn't think about the flash of realization in his eyes and what it might mean. Instead, she turned on her heel—her beautiful white, crystal encrusted heel she'd bought to walk down the aisle toward Oliver in—and walked away, because there was nothing else to say.

And even as she did, with her mother's warning words— _people don't change_ —ringing in her ears, she couldn't help but hope.

 _Maybe this time_.


	4. Monument Point

**I wrote this really quickly this morning, so it's barely edited, but I wanted to share.**

 **It's sort of spec fic-ish, I guess. I have no idea what is going to happen with Genesis or H.I.V.E. or any of that, but the idea of the city being destroyed and Oliver feeling like a failure popped into my head when I woke up, so I wrote it down.**

Oliver stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down onto his city.

Or what was left of it.

He had failed. His team had tried, but in the end Genesis had decimated Star City and more of its citizens than Oliver wanted to count. He was grateful to Lyla and A.R.G.U.S. for helping to evacuate as many as they had.

Every resident of Star City that hadn't been killed in the attack was currently held up in the bunker at the Monument Point military base, including his team, but Oliver had to come outside to see the city he had ultimately failed to save.

It had been a long night and an even longer day. Oliver felt on the verge of exhaustion, mental and physical, but he couldn't even think about sleep. Not now, maybe not ever again as far as he was concerned.

He'd seen Star City in many different states: demolished, in flames, on the brink of all out war. But he'd never seen it so... quiet. It was unnatural. There were no flames, no smoke, no sound at all. Because everyone was either in the bunker below the military base or... dead.

The door of the base creaked open behind him, followed by footsteps on concrete—a lot of footsteps—but Oliver couldn't look. He couldn't face them. His team or his people. Not when his failure had caused this. His failure to stop Darhk or H.I.V.E. or Malcolm.

Felicity approached him. He could tell without looking that it was her. He wanted to look at her, to bask in the fact that she was alive and she was here. That his team made it through this tragedy, at least. What was left of it anyway. They'd lost one of their own to this fight already...

"Oliver," she breathed, looking out over the silent destruction of the city they'd called home. The city that had been their's to protect...

He turned away from it, and from her. He didn't think he could handle the look on her face. But when he turned he found something even worse.

The people of Star City were standing behind him, some staring at the ruins of their home, but most were watching _him_. The Green Arrow, protector of their city. They were waiting for something, but Oliver didn't know what. A rallying cry, something to give them hope, or maybe his blood for failing to protect them. Oliver wasn't sure he had anything left to give.

He'd failed them and they deserved to know.

So, standing there, in front of a few hundred of the only remaining citizens of his city, Oliver reached up and pulled back his hood.

"Oliver, are you crazy?" Felicity hissed at his side, but the last thing he was worried about right now was being arrested. Most of the police force was dead.

He heard murmurs go through the crowd, but he ignored them, pulling his mask down to hang around his neck. "Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow," someone gasped, and it shot through the crowd like wild fire. He was sure within minutes every person in the bunker would know his identity. But he didn't care.

They deserved to know.

"I failed you," he said, his voice soft, despite the way it carried over the silence of the city below. "I failed this city."

The murmur in the crowd died down the moment he spoke, hundreds of eyes settled on him and Oliver suddenly felt so tired he wasn't sure how he was still standing.

"I tried to stop H.I.V.E. but I couldn't. I couldn't protect you, or your loved ones, and I am so sorry." Tears flooded his eyes and he blinked to clear them.

If they blamed him, if they hated him, they deserved to know who he was.

A woman, no older than Oliver, stepped towards him, a determined look on her face. There were two children, a boy and a girl, standing behind her holding hands like they were each other's lifeline. He couldn't blame them after the last few days.

"My husband died down there," the woman said, voice shaky, but somehow firm in the quiet of the night. "Those people killed him, but you..."

"I'm sorry," Oliver breathed, tears on his face and in his voice.

"You," the woman said, swallowing hard, "you saved our children. You, personally, carried my daughter onto the evacuation bus when those soldiers tried to..." Her voice choked off in a sob and he looked back at the girl. He didn't remember her or her mother. He'd seen so many scared faces in the past twelve hours... "And then you stayed behind to fight with the rest of them. You all did," she said, gesturing to the rest of Oliver's team, now standing beside him and Felicity.

"You saved my family," someone shouted from the crowd. "The red one saved my whole apartment building from being left behind."

He glanced over at Thea, tears and grease paint smudged all over her face, as more shouts erupted from the crowd. People claiming they'd saved them, calling them heroes, despite the city sitting silently below them.

A small, warm hand curled into his own, and he looked down at Felicity. She was watching the crowd, watching them thank him and cheer him on. And suddenly, it didn't feel like a failure, even though he had failed. He'd saved her. He'd helped save all of these people, and everyone still inside the bunker. Everyone else who'd managed to get out of the city before Genesis had gone into effect, releasing the toxin into the air.

People had died, but more people had lived. And that was, in part, because of him. And because of Felicity and the rest of their friends. And because of these people who had come together, strangers and family alike, to save each other. They'd fought against the ghosts every bit as hard as his team had. Many had lost their lives so more could live.

And just like that Oliver got his second wind, his family, his city, beside him, offering him the hope he'd thought lost just a moment ago.

"Every person here is a hero tonight," he said, and the shouts immediately stopped, all eyes on him. "And every person down there is, too," he gestured towards the city. "H.I.V.E. won the battle, but we will continue to fight. I swear to you, we will take back our home. They can kill us, but they can't take our hope! Star City might have been destroyed tonight, but it's people certainly have not!"

Applause and shouts of, "United!" rang through the crowd. The citizens of Star City were ready to take back their home, then they would mourn their dead and, eventually, they'd move on from this tragedy.

Felicity's hand tightened around Oliver's and she turned her body towards him, her lips brushing against the bare skin of his arm. Sparks of heat raced through him, seeping into his bones and replacing the exhaustion with an energy he hadn't felt since she'd given back his ring weeks earlier.

"That was a good speech," she murmured, a teary eyed smile breaking out on her face as she looked up at him.

Oliver blinked back his own tears and wrapped an arm around her, kissing the top of her head, burying his face in her hair. She weaved her fingers through his short hair, pulling him closer.

"What do we do now?" she asked, voice shaking slightly.

"I have no idea," he answered quietly, holding her tightly to his chest. There was so much to do, so much to figure out, and all he wanted was to sleep—preferably with Felicity in his arms—but he knew they didn't have time for that. H.I.V.E. was out there, and they needed to be stopped. "But we'll figure it out together. You and me. And the rest of the team." He huffed a laugh, glancing up at the crowd. "And maybe the rest of the city."

Felicity laughed, throwing her head back to look at him. "Yeah, you gave away your secret identity. Good thing they seem to like you."

He shook his head slightly, eyes falling to where his arm wove around her back.

"Hey," Felicity said, pulling his gaze back to her. She reached up and cradled his cheek with one hand, brushing her thumb softly across his stubble. Oliver turned into the feeling. He'd missed this. He'd missed her more than he could fathom.

"I love you, Oliver," she murmured, pride evident in her blue eyes, despite the obvious fear and exhaustion she was also feeling. "And we're going to figure out how to move forward together. Always together."

"Always together," he echoed, holding her tight as she nuzzled her cheek into the leather of his suit.

Felicity was right. They would figure out how to move forward, how to stop H.I.V.E. But for now, he was just going to enjoy the fact that his family and friends were here with him, that _she_ was here with him. That they were together. Everything else would come next, but for right now, he let himself concentrate only on the feeling of Felicity wrapped tightly around him.


	5. Too Much Wine

**This is based off of the first Olicity Fic Challenge tumblr prompt: "Why are you lying on the floor?" "Because sometimes a person just needs to!"**

 **I'm gonna admit, I kind of hate this. I have no idea where I was going with it, I just know that Thea (as usual) demanded to be involved and this was the result.**

"Why are you lying on the floor?"

It was his only thought when he walked down the stairs to see Felicity and Thea sprawled out on the floor beside the couch.

"Because sometimes a person just needs to!" Thea groaned, throwing an arm over her face.

They'd had a girls night the night before, watching movies, drinking wine and talking about… whatever. He'd gotten out of there once they started talking guys. There were some things he just didn't need to know about his sister. He'd checked on them once before going to bed and they seemed fine, but now Thea looked like she had quite a hangover and Felicity… Felicity was snoring. Something she only did when she'd had too much wine, he'd discovered this past summer on their road trip.

"You can't be comfortable down there," he told his sister, stepping around the coffee table.

"Nothing's comfortable and everything's spinning. But the floor is cool and nice and not spinning."

He bent down, slipping his arms beneath Felicity's shoulders and hauled her into his arms. She groaned, and turned into his shoulder burying her face in his shirt. "I'm gonna put her in the bed," he told Thea. "Do you want to lay down too?"

"She is laying down, Oliver," Felicity mumbled into his chest and he glanced down to see her face screwed up in discomfort. "Stop moving around so much. You're making me seasick."

"You can't get seasick on land," he smiled, but he tried not to jostle her anymore than necessary as he started walking towards the stairs.

"Tell that to my stomach," she muttered.

He placed her gently in their bed, pulling back the covers and tucking her in. As a precaution, he placed the trash can beside the bed.

"Thank you," she whispered, rolling onto her side and blinking up at him.

"Did you have fun last night?" he asked, softly, carefully sitting beside her. He swept a few locks of hair off her forehead and smiled when she turned into his hand.

"Lots," she said, a smile of her own tugging at her lips. "We stayed up all night telling embarrassing stories about you."

"So many stories," Thea agreed, ambling into the bedroom and plopping down on Oliver's side of the bed. She balled up his pillow and curled her body around it and he couldn't help but remember the way she used to do that when she was a kid and feeling sick.

"Better than the floor?" he asked her.

Thea made a noncommittal sound and buried her face in the pillow.

"Do either of you want anything? Water, aspirin? Something to eat might help."

Both of his girls groaned and scrunched their noses. "No food. Just sleep. So much sleep," Felicity mumbled.

"All the sleep," Thea agreed.

"Alright," he agreed, standing up. "I'll let you guys sleep it off."

As he walked from the room, he turned back to take one more look. The two most important women in his life were groaning and grumbling about never drinking that much ever again, but they looked much more comfortable than they had downstairs on the floor. It warmed his heart to see them like that, because it was such a normal thing and after the year they'd had, these two women deserved normal. They deserved to spend the rest of the day sleeping off the wine and then tonight, once they felt better, they'd have a family dinner. He made a mental note to invite Dig and Lyla.


	6. Pancakes

**Prompt for the Olicity Fic Challenge tumblr: "You're still here… and you're making pancakes?"**

 **I kind of skipped day 2, but I'll circle back around to it eventually. I just had an idea for this prompt and it kind of wrote itself.**

###

 **6:05 a.m.**

Felicity dragged herself down the hall towards her dorm room. She was so angry at her roommate, Rebecca, but she was currently too tired to tell the perky brunette off.

It was one thing to request an hour or so of privacy in their shared dorm, it was another thing to go on an all night sex spree with some Harvard idiot. Thank god, Felicity didn't have any classes until this afternoon. She'd spent the majority of her night in the library, angrily studying for her physics class. She supposed the all nighter was beneficial—the extra study time didn't hurt, exactly—but she would have preferred sleep.

Oh, sleep. Beautiful, wonderful sleep.

Slowly, she cracked open the door to her room, peeking inside to make sure there was no sex happening. They couldn't still be at it, they just couldn't. No one had that much stamina.

There was a soft snore, but no moans or creaking bed frames, much to Felicity's relief.

She'd come back to the room three times last night to find them still having sex. Three times! Either this guy was awful in bed or he was some sort of a sex God.

She entered the room to see her roommate and the frat boy spread out on the bed, their important parts covered by her roommate's comforter. Thankfully.

Without a second thought she climbed into her bed—foregoing changing out of her black cargo pants—and promptly fell asleep.

 **12:18 p.m.**

Something smelled good.

It was her first thought, as she came to. Her stomach grumbled and she groaned, grabbing blindly for her glasses on her side table. Felicity sat up, sliding her glasses into place, then blinked at the sight before her.

The idiot frat boy, the one her roommate had a sex marathon with last night, was standing near the small kitchenette area in his boxer briefs. He had her roommate's small frying pan, and was making… _something_ on the hot plate her mom had given her in hopes that Felicity might be able to feed herself while away at college.

She glanced over to her Rebecca's side of the room, but the girl was no where to be found. Felicity checked her alarm clock and realized her roommate was probably already in class. And she'd left a stranger here. In their shared room. While Felicity slept.

Felicity made a mental promise to have words with Rebecca later. Explicit ones.

"You're still here…" Felicity said, standing up and glancing into the frying pan, "and you're making pancakes?"

Frat Boy turned around and threw her a smile and… damn. He was kind of gorgeous. She hadn't noticed last night due to his face being plastered to Rebecca's, but now that she got a good look… Damn. In the light of day his eyes were a startling shade of blue. His short blonde hair—mussed from all the sex, she assumed—stood up at all angles. The light stubble on his cheeks made his jaw look sharper somehow. And that was just his face. His bare chest, all muscle and ridges, almost demanded to be touched. So sex God it was, then.

Felicity felt some of her anger at Rebecca fading. No wonder the girl had had a sex marathon with this man.

Her stomach grumbled again.

"I was hungry," Frat Boy smiled, "and I felt bad about kicking you out last night so I made pancakes. You hungry?"

Felicity wanted to say no, to tell him to leave, but… truth was, she was hungry and those pancakes smelled delicious.

"Thanks," she said, sitting on the edge of her bed, while the guy dumped the pancake onto a pile on a plate on the counter. He got another plate, placing two pancakes on it and handing it to her.

"Is two enough?" he asked.

"Yeah," Felicity said, silently making grabby hands for the maple syrup. He handed it over with an amused grin. "What's your name? Not that I care, but you did make breakfast and I'd like to stop calling you Frat Boy in my head."

The guy laughed and Felicity was caught off guard by how much she liked the sound. "Oliver," he said, reaching out a hand.

"Felicity," she replied, shaking his hand, then digging into her food.

"This is good," she mumbled, taking a bite. "I can't even make pancakes on a stove, how can you possibly make them this good with just a hot plate?"

"Frat boy secrets," he grinned attractively back at her as he plated the rest for himself.

They ate in silence, her sitting on the end of her bed and him standing by the sink in his underwear. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it could have been, but it was weird. He had to realize how weird it was.

"So…" Felicity said after a few minutes, feeling the need to fill the silence. "Will this be a regular occurrence for you and Rebecca or…?"

"Rebecca?" he asked, glancing up, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Rebecca. The girl you had all the sex with last night?"

"Oh!" Oliver said. He, at least, looked slightly embarrassed at not even knowing his date's name. "We weren't really focused on getting to know each other last night."

"Yeah," Felicity smirked. "I could tell. By the way, if this ever does happen again, can you take it to your dorm instead?"

Oliver laughed. "You don't need to worry about that."

"Yeah, I guess you don't seem like the kind of guy to… repeat himself."

Oliver glanced down, sweeping his eyes over her ruffled tank top and cargo pants, before moving his eyes back up to her's. "Not with a girl like her."

Felicity actually guffawed at that. This guy was something else.

"Not my smoothest line, I know," he grinned, placing his plate in the sink and taking a seat at the desk across from her, "but not untrue."

"Uh hmm," she smiled, shaking her head. "You are aware that hitting on the roommate of the girl you just slept with—the roommate that you kicked out of her own room, _all night_ , I might add—kind of a faux pas," she stage whispered.

Oliver rolled his eyes, but nodded. "I guess. Still, the whole goth thing?" He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made Felicity want to snort. "It's really working for you."

"Well, this whole pants-less frat boy thing?" Felicity smirked, leaning down to pick his jeans up off the floor and throw them in his direction. "Not really working for you."

Lies. All lies, Felicity could admit to herself, but his disappointed look was so worth it.

"Aww," he said, standing and slipping his pants on, then bending to grab his shirt. "I thought we were becoming friends?"

He was teasing her, a smile on his face, but she could tell he was serious about his question. Though, she also knew that 'friends', to him, just meant someone who might sleep with him.

"Maybe someday," she teased back, standing and showing him to the door.

He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and walked into the hall, turning back to her with a smile. He really was very attractive, his blue eyes shining with amusement. "Nice meeting you."

"Yeah," Felicity smiled back. As Oliver turned away, walking down the hall, Felicity couldn't stop herself from calling after him. "Thanks for the pancakes."

Oliver turned back, one hand gripping his jacket, a grin splitting his handsome face. "Any time, Felicity."

She watched him walk away, before closing the door and getting ready for class.

 **1:00 p.m.**

Felicity opened her door, ready to head out to her 1:30 p.m. class, when she noticed a piece of paper flutter to the ground by her feet.

It was ripped. A green scrap of paper with what looked like part of an ad for the glee club on it. It had clearly been torn off the bulletin board down the hall.

Felicity picked it up, turning it over in her hand. Scratched out in blue ink was a phone number along with a short note.

 _If you ever need someone to make you pancakes, give me a call._

Slipping the green note into her pocket, Felicity headed off to class, smile firmly in place despite herself.


	7. The Ring

**The 4th prompt for Olicity Fic Challenge tumblr is: A stuck elevator, a dead cell phone, and a ring.**

 **A/N: This one is a wordy mess. More of a half finished thought than a fic. I just hope it's not the nonsensical gibberish I fear it is. I haven't been in a very writerly headspace lately and just didn't want to look at this for one more second, so I'm posting, but yeah. This could still use a lot of work.**

The ring felt like lead in his pocket.

He reached in to make sure it was still there, fingers fiddling with the cool platinum. It was still right where he'd shoved it this morning before he'd left the mansion.

The elevator slowed on the nineteenth floor and he glanced up at his reflection, a frown reflected back at him in the polished steel doors. Doors that we're currently sliding open to reveal a young woman with a frizzy blonde ponytail and the pinkest lips he'd ever seen.

"Oh!" she chirped, blue eyes wide behind plastic frames. She pushed up her glasses using her fingertips, then smiled as she stepped onto the elevator. "Hello, Mr. Queen. How are you?"

He smiled back, but she could tell it was forced. He knew because her smile thinned and she leaned over to press the button for the tenth floor, then quietly faced the doors as they slid shut.

Starting up again, the elevator slid down the shaft towards the garage. Oliver's fingers twitched around the cool metal. He just wanted to get to the restaurant, propose and then he'd never have to think about this damn ring ever again.

The elevator stopped abruptly, causing his knees to buckle. Losing his balance, he stumbled forward, catching himself on the doors. The blonde hit the back wall, grabbing onto the railing on the side.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asked.

She glanced over at him, then past him at the control panel. "Yeah, I'm fine. There should be a phone or something in there," she said, pointing at the panel, "so we can call for help."

Oliver nodded, impressed that this woman was keeping her head. Pulling open the panel she was referring to, he didn't find a phone, but he did find an emergency button to signal that the elevator was stuck and that there were people inside. He pushed it, then leaned back against the elevator wall, looking at the blonde again.

"Has this ever happened before?" he asked. "Do you know how long it usually takes? There's somewhere I need to be…"

If they were stuck in here for awhile he was worried he and Helena might miss their reservation…

"Not sure," the woman replied. "I haven't worked here very long and the only experience I've had being stuck in an elevator was that time at the Tropicana where me and my mom got stuck in the service elevator with an Elvis impersonator. Talk about needing to be somewhere else. My mom had him singing the entire soundtrack to Viva Las Vegas by the time they got us out of there."

Oliver had no idea what to say to that, so he just sort of opened his mouth and then closed it. "That… sounds like an experience," he said, eventually.

The woman looked a little embarrassed by her ramble, but she still managed a genuine smile. "Yeah, well my mom can be a handful. Though, nothing is ever boring when she's around."

"That must be nice," Oliver said distractedly, as he examined the elevator controls. There must be something he could do…

"You haven't met my mom," the woman mumbled. She leaned back against the wall and slid down so she was sitting on the floor. With a wave of her hand she gestured for him to take a seat as well. "You might as well sit," she said. "Staring at the buttons won't make Maintenance fix it any faster."

Oliver's eyebrows shot up as he glanced in her direction. Her eyes widened and an embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks.

"I mean, if you want. Sir," she added, averting her eyes and glancing down at her feet.

With a huff, Oliver folded himself onto the floor beside her, stretching his legs in front of him and turning to face her. He reached a hand out to shake. "Sorry," he said. "I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Oliver Queen."

"I know who you are," the woman said quickly. "You're Mr. Queen."

"No, Mr. Queen was my father," Oliver smiled.

"Right, but he died." Her eyes went huge behind her glasses. "I mean, he drowned. I mean…" She lowered her head, running a hand over her hair. "Sorry. I'm… I'm Felicity. Smoak."

She glanced up at him and, even sitting, he still had to look down to meet her eyes.

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Queen. I babble when I'm nervous and I…"

Oliver nodded. "Don't worry about it. It's a stressful situation, Felicity. I understand."

She bit her lip and Oliver leaned his head back against the steel wall.

"This had to happen at the end of the day, right?" she said, her tone light, obviously trying to break the tension. "It couldn't happen this morning when I was being sent up to Mr. Prescott's office to 'fix' his computer." She made air quotes with her fingers. "I swear, I'm convinced he's just kicking the cables out so he'll get to watch me crawl under his desk to plug them all back in."

Oliver's brows pulled together. "Have you reported him to HR?"

"Oh no," Felicity shook her head, waving his concern away. "No, he's harmless. It's just kind of a joke in the department since there's no other reason for him to need IT every other day."

"Okay. But if someone's making you uncomfortable," Oliver said, making sure to meet her eyes, "you should report them to HR. End of story."

Felicity met his gaze for a moment, before looking away, but Oliver could see the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Thank you."

"I haven't been running the company long," Oliver said. "But I never want any of my employees to feel uncomfortable at work."

"You mean, unless they're stuck in a broken elevator rambling inappropriately at their boss?" Felicity teased.

Oliver winked at her. "Yeah. That's the only exception, though."

He sighed, leaning back into the wall, digging into his pocket. It had already been a few minutes and it was likely to take a while more before they got moving again. He needed to text Helena to let her know he'd be a little late. But when he pulled out his phone the screen was dark.

"Dammit!" he cursed under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Felicity asked.

"My phone is dead." Oliver pressed the power button a few times, but there was no use. He knew he should have charged it earlier.

"I'd lend you mine," Felicity offered, "except I don't actually have mine on me. Which is very unusual for me, but to be fair, I thought I was just running upstairs to drop off a file. I wasn't really prepared to be stuck in an elevator with the CEO of the company."

"It's not your fault. This is inconveniencing you just as much as it is me, I'm sure."

"Not really," Felicity admitted with a shrug. "I was just gonna home, order some take out and finish binging Buffy for the thousandth time. I'm sure you had somewhere interesting to be."

"Kind of." He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. "I was going to propose to my girlfriend tonight."

"Oh!" Felicity gasped. "I'm sure they'll get us out of here soon…"

She trailed off, her false hope obvious in the way her words hung in the air between them.

"It's okay, Felicity. They'll get us out when they get us out. It's not that… It's… I was hoping to get this done tonight."

"Someone's in a hurry," she joked. "I'm sure she'll understand if it doesn't go down exactly the way you planned. But that's the great thing about love, right? If it's with the right person, anything can be romantic! Even proposing after being stuck in an elevator and missing the planned proposal."

Oliver could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke about love and it caused him to grimace. How did this stranger sound more excited about his proposal than he was?

"Helena and I aren't exactly big on romance," he muttered. He wasn't sure why he was even telling her this, but the words just sort of tumbled from his lips.

"Why not?" she asked. "I mean, not that it's any of my business or anything. It just seems like you're upset over not being able to propose, so… You must have something romantic planned."

"Not… really," Oliver drawled, with a shake of his head. "I only decided yesterday that this was the right move, but I wanted to get it over with…"

"You wanted to get your engagement over with?" Felicity asked, her eyebrows rising in incredulity.

"Yeah," Oliver exhaled. "I told you we weren't very romantic."

"There's a difference between not being romantic and not wanting to get engaged."

"I do want to get engaged," Oliver argued, but he didn't sound very convincing. "It's the right move."

And it was. He was certain.

What he had with Helena might not be some fairytale version of true love, but it was pragmatic. They were both from wealthy families whose businesses would profit from the connection. And they'd been together long enough that he cared for her as he knew she cared for him. So when Helena began mentioning weddings after a double date with Laurel and Tommy, Oliver realized that maybe she wanted to take that next step. Then his mother hinted that it might be the right time to settle down, stating how Queen Consolidated's stock prices could rise if Oliver projected a more positive family image for the company. And she wasn't wrong. The stock prices had been steadily falling ever since his father died and he'd taken over the company. If marrying Helena Bertinelli could save his family's business than that was what he'd do.

He'd agreed and the next day Moira had handed over her engagement ring and wished him luck.

And that damn ring had been burning a hole in his pocket ever since. Oliver was self aware enough to know it wasn't excitement causing the tightness in his chest whenever his fingers ran over the smooth metal. He knew he was anxious. Where that anxiety stemmed from, on the other hand, Oliver really wasn't sure. All he knew was that the idea of proposing to Helena was causing a type of anxiety he hadn't felt since his father died and he was handed the reigns to the company. That hadn't been a direction he'd planned himself going in, but, in the end, it had been the right one. For his family, for the business and for himself.

Marrying Helena was just like that, he told himself. _It's scary now, but once it's done, it will all be for the best._

He and Felicity sat in silence for a few minutes while he pondered his relationship, not a sound penetrating the small space except for their breathing. You'd think if there was a crew trying to fix the elevator and get to them they'd hear _something_ …

"Uh oh," Felicity said, and he could feel her eyes on him. "You've got mopey face."

"What?" Oliver asked, tilting his head to look at her.

"Your face, it's…" Felicity tried to explain, gesturing to his face. "Anyway. You don't look all that happy. I didn't mean to question your motivations…"

"No, it's okay. I guess I've been questioning them all day. I do want to get engaged, it makes sense for our relationship to take the next step, it's just… My relationship with Helena _isn't_ romantic and now I'm making myself anxious about the proposal, so I just want to get it over with."

"What would you call it?" Felicity asked. "Your relationship, I mean. If it's not romantic."

"Realistic," he answered after a moment of thought. "Helena and I have always known we aren't some great romance. It's part of what drew us together in the first place. But we could do worse."

" _We could do worse_ ," Felicity repeated with a disbelieving shake of her head. "I think those are your vows right there."

Oliver met her eyes and then, much to his surprise, a chuckle fell from his lips. "So you don't think I should marry Helena, is what you're saying?"

"I didn't say that," Felicity replied firmly. "It's just…"

"Just what?" Oliver inquired, curiously, when she didn't immediately finish her thought.

Felicity inhaled deeply, turning to look down at her feet again. She wiggled her toes in her shoes—shoes with pandas on them, he realized, holding back a smirk—and avoided Oliver's eyes. "It's just that I think…" She glanced up, blue eyes meeting his. "I think you deserve better than that."

Oliver blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. "You barely know me," he said softly.

"I know," Felicity agreed with a nod. "But I think everyone deserves better than that. You're openly admitting that you and your future wife aren't a great romance. You're telling a stranger that you just want to propose and get it over with." She glanced down at her fingers, tangling then together nervously as she spoke. "My parents didn't have a great relationship. They weren't romantic, either. I'm pretty sure they only got married because my mom got pregnant. Eventually, when that wasn't enough anymore, my dad left." She shook her head with a quiet sigh. "I want better than that for myself. I want better than that for my kids, if I ever have any. Maybe the fairytale romance is a pipe dream, but I have to believe _everyone_ deserves better than a 'we could do worse'."

Swallowing, Oliver looked away. She wasn't wrong. 'We could do worse' wasn't a reason to get married, but that wasn't something he really wanted to think about, because… What were his reasons for proposing to Helena aside from it being good for QC? His parents relationship wasn't any better than Felicity's. How many times had he walked in on his father flirting with his secretary or his mother wiping her eyes dry and straightening her spine after a fight? Would that be him and Helena one day? Would they start the cycle again for their own children? Did he and Helena even want children? They hadn't ever talked about the future.

"Sorry," Felicity said after a few moments of silence. "I'm probably way overstepping. I didn't mean to put my issues onto you and your girlfriend. Another case of real talk getting a little too real," she joked.

Oliver smiled softly at her. "Don't worry about it. You brought up some good points. And I'm sorry about your dad."

"I'm sorry about yours," she replied.

For a long moment, they just watched each other. Blue eyes locked as Oliver felt something stir inside of his chest. Friendship, he decided. A kindred spirit. It had been a long time since he'd felt anything like that with someone. Not since he'd met Tommy in kindergarten.

It was nice.

"So…" Felicity drawled after a minute or two. "How were you going to propose? Maybe if we talk strategy you won't be so freaked out by it?"

"I'm not freaked out," Oliver muttered. Anxiety and freaking out weren't the same thing.

"Do you have a ring?" Felicity ignored him.

With a sigh, he pulled the ring from his pocket, handing it over for Felicity to inspect. She twisted and turned it in her fingers, inspecting it from every angle. Her raised brows and small smile led Oliver to believe she approved.

"Impressive," she said, handing it back.

"It was my mother's," he said, turning it over in his hands, inspecting it as Felicity had done. He hadn't really looked at it before, too overwhelmed by what it symbolized, but the ring was lovely now that he took a moment to appreciate it.

"How do you wanna do it?"

Oliver's gaze flew to his companion's. "Excuse me?"

"With Helena?" Felicity cringed. "I meant, how are you going to propose? Not how are you going to do it, _do it_. Though, after you propose you probably… That's not…"

He couldn't help but smile as her cheeks flushed with color. Taking pity, he placed a hand on Felicity's on the floor, stopping her mid ramble.

"I'm not really sure, I guess," he admitted. "I made a reservation at Table Salt and I was just going to ask during dinner? Honestly, I have no idea what I'm even supposed to say."

"Practice on me, then."

It was such a simple suggestion, but it threw Oliver enough that it took a moment for him to process.

"Like, propose to you?" he asked.

Felicity rolled her blue eyes, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. "Pretend I'm Helena. Come on, we have time to kill and maybe it will help you out when it comes time for the real thing."

"Alright," Oliver said, angling his body to face her. "Felicity…"

"Helena," she corrected.

Oliver smiled. "Helena. There's something that… I've been thinking that we should…" He released a huff, tipping his head forward in frustration. "I have no idea what to say."

"Speak from the heart," Felicity suggested like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"My heart doesn't know what to say either," Oliver said, with a glare in her direction.

"You're the one marrying her," Felicity insisted. "There must be a reason."

"There are plenty," Oliver argued, though he'd asked himself the same thing. "I'm just not good with talking about feelings."

"So… go with a generic proposal," she suggested lightly, shrugging her shoulders. "Something cliche, like 'Helena, you are the love of my life and I want to spend the rest of mine with you'."

Oliver lifted a brow in her direction. "Did you miss the part where I mentioned neither of us is very romantic?"

"You've got to be at least a little romantic!" Felicity's lips pinched together in irritation when he shrugged. "Fine, so say, 'Helena, will you marry me?' and just rip the bandaid off then."

"Helena," Oliver said, taking Felicity's hand in his. Her hand was smaller than Helena's, he noted, and warm. It was fitting, he supposed, since Felicity seemed like such a warm person. "I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Felicity blinked at his no nonsense tone, but nodded her assent. He glanced down at the way their fingers had tangled together. Her hand really was tiny. He slipped the ring onto her finger and was surprised when it fit.

"Wow," Felicity smiled, raising her hand so she could get a better look at the ring on her left finger. "It's so big I can practically see myself in it," she grinned, pretending to use the diamond as a mirror to fix her hair.

Oliver laughed, a real honest to goodness laugh and Felicity turned to him, a grin tugging on her lips.

"I'm sure she won't even care about the bling," she said, dropping her hand to her lap. "She's just going to be happy you proposed. It was a good proposal, by the way."

"You're just saying that because you came up with it," Oliver teased, but he did feel better. He'd been so worried about proposing, but it wasn't as big a deal as he was making it. The nerves he felt would fade once he talked to Helena, he was sure.

Felicity opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment the elevator bounced back to life, humming beautifully as it proceeded to lower them to the ground floor.

"Oh thank god!" Felicity sighed, happily. "Not that helping you figure out how to propose wasn't a great way to spend the past," she furrowed her brows, "however long we were stuck in here, but now you've got a chance to actually go do that. And I can go home to Netflix and a pint of mint chip."

"I thought you were getting takeout?" Oliver asked, recalling her earlier plans.

"Nah," she laughed, getting to her feet. Oliver followed behind her as the doors slid open into the lobby. "Being stuck in an elevator is reason enough to skip dinner and go straight to dessert."

They walked out of the elevator, both assuring lobby security and the maintenance staff that they were fine. Oliver lingered a little as Felicity pushed the button for the elevator on the opposite wall.

"I'd take the stairs," she said, "but my office is ten floors up and it'll be a while before I'm ready to get in _that_ particular elevator again."

Oliver smiled. "You want me to ride back up with you? Just in case."

"Nah," Felicity grinned. "I'll be fine. But…" She hesitated, then her smile turned softer. "If you have time, come down to the IT department and let me know how it all turns out."

"Of course," he said, his voice soft. "Enjoy your ice cream."

The elevator opened and Felicity stepped in, pressing the button. He waved at her as the doors slid closed. Her smile was etched in his mind even as he left QC and made his way to the restaurant.

He was a half hour late, but the moment he walked in the hostess ushered him to a private table near the back of the restaurant.

"Oliver!" Helena said, a glass of wine dangling from her fingertips and a slight frown on her face. "Good of you to show up."

"I apologize." He leaned down to greet her with a kiss, but she turned her face away at the last moment, causing his lips to brush her cheek. "I was stuck at QC longer than I intended."

He wasn't sure why he didn't mention the elevator. Helena wasn't an unreasonable person, she would have understood that his tardiness couldn't have been helped, but for some reason he kept it to himself. Or maybe his silence had more to do with the conversation he'd had on the elevator. It was intimate, and it was something he wanted to remain that way. Just between him and Felicity.

"Well," Helena shrugged lightly. "Now that you're here, I think we should talk."

"Yes, I wanted to ask you something," Oliver said, feeling more nervous now than he had all day. He'd thought practicing with Felicity had helped his nerves, but now he felt nauseous with them. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, after all. Taking a deep breath, he gathered all of his nerve and decided to just say it.

"Helena, I want to—"

"I think we should break up."

Oliver blinked once, twice, trying to take in her words. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she offered, her normally perfect posture wilting a little as she explained. "I know it seems out of the blue, but I've been thinking a lot about our future lately. About _my_ future."

"So have I," Oliver mumbled. "I thought…"

"I know," Helena shook her head. "I thought so, too."

"But you mentioned marriage…?" To say Oliver was confused was an understatement. He'd come to this restaurant for one reason, a reason that, now that it was off the table, he could admit he'd been dreading. But still, there hadn't been any signs that Helena was unhappy with their relationship.

"Because Laurel told me in the bathroom at dinner last week that she thought Tommy was going to propose," Helena explained. "And I… did consider it. My father's been on my back to marry you for awhile. I usually ignore him, but I've been thinking about it a lot recently and I just… I don't think that it would make me happy. My whole life has been controlled by my father and what he believes is best for the family. And I like you, Oliver, I do, but that's not a reason to get married!"

She shook her head, leaning forward over the table.

"We've had fun and there have been parts of our relationship I've truly enjoyed, but it's not enough for me anymore. When you're with someone you should… I don't know, _feel something_! Something that connects you to that other person. And I may not ever find that, but I have to look."

Oliver sat back in his seat, a quick exhale his only response.

"Oliver, I'm sorry," she repeated.

"No, it's… a relief, actually." He furrowed his brows, tilting his head as he looked at her. "It shouldn't be a relief, but it is."

And it was. All of that anxiety he'd been feeling ever since his mother handed him the ring just… evaporated right along with his relationship. He should probably feel sad or upset, but he just didn't.

Helena smiled, a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I know. I think that says it all, doesn't it?"

Dragging in a deep breath, Oliver stood from his seat. Helena stood from her's as well, gathering her jacket and bag.

"I probably won't see you for awhile," she said. "My father is going to kill me, so I'm thinking now is the perfect time for a vacation."

She laughed, and Oliver couldn't help but compare it to Felicity's laugh. And that thought surprised him more than Helena dumping him had.

"Take care, Helena," he said, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"You too, Oliver," she smiled, then walked away. Out of the restaurant, out of his life. It didn't even surprise him how unaffected he felt about that.

He made his way over to the hostess, apologizing for cutting the evening short and offering to leave a generous tip, when the door to the restaurant flew open and a tiny blonde rushed towards him.

"Oliver! Oh, thank god!"

Her purple coat was hanging off one shoulder, her bag practically falling off the other and she was breathing heavily as if she'd just run all the way from QC, but Oliver could honestly say, he'd never been happier to see a person.

He wasn't even sure why he was happy. He just liked that he was getting another moment with this woman, even if it was a very unexpected moment.

"Felicity," he says, giving her a confused smile. "What are you doing here?"

"The ring!" she panted, holding her hand out towards him. "I stole it. Or not," she grimaced, "not _stole_ it. I didn't mean to, because if I had I wouldn't have rushed all the way here to give it back." She paused, taking a deep breath. "I forgot I had it on when the elevator started up again."

She pulled his mother's ring off her finger, handing it back to him and all he could think was, _That ring never would have fit on Helena's finger._

The thought nearly made him laugh. Instead, he took the ring from Felicity, slipping it back into his pocket.

"I can't believe I did that. And after your night was already ruined—"

"Felicity, relax," he told her, his lips pulling up into a grin as she exhaled loudly. "It's not a big deal," he promised her. "Helena and I… We broke up, actually, so there was nothing to ruin."

"Oh, Oliver!" she cried, her crystal blue eyes going wide behind her glasses. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not. If anything, I'm relieved." And we parted amicably. I think we were both on the same page, we just didn't realize it until tonight."

Felicity bit her bottom lip and Oliver couldn't help but focus on it. Her lips were just so pink…

"That's good," she said after a moment. "Not that I didn't want you to get married. I mean, I have no reason to not want you to get married. I just didn't want you to marry the wrong person, because… Because you deserve to be happy and you didn't really seem happy in the elevator."

"I wasn't. I thought that I was, but now… It's like a weight has been lifted." A couple entered the restaurant and he led Felicity to the side, a hand on her shoulder. Even through her coat he could feel the heat radiating from her. "She broke up with me, but I'm pretty sure I would have done it if she hadn't. Maybe not tonight, but eventually. So I'm glad she did it now."

"I'm happy for you both then," Felicity smiled a little awkwardly. He couldn't blame her. It was weird celebrating the end of his relationship, but that was exactly what he wanted to do.

An idea popped into his head and Oliver turned to the hostess, who was just returning from seating two guests. "Would it be alright if I kept the table for a while longer?"

"Of course, Mr. Queen," she smiled, walking around the front desk and typing something into the computer. "It's all yours. I'll just have someone clean it up a little for you and your guest."

"Thank you," he smiled, before turning back to the blonde. "Felicity," he said, softly, "would you like to have dinner with me?"

Felicity huffed a surprised laugh, before narrowing her eyes. "I would love to? Though, I'm not sure that would be considered appropriate. I mean, you did just almost propose to another woman tonight…"

"Dinner as friends is entirely appropriate," he promised. "And exactly what I need right now."

"Well, in that case, how can I say no?" She took Oliver's arm and let him lead her to the back of the restaurant, where a server was just pouring wine into new glasses and setting them out on the table.

Oliver thanked the man before pulling out Felicity's chair for her.

"Oh, wine," she sighed, reaching for the glass immediately. "You are just what I needed after today." She took a sip, closing her eyes at the taste.

"Better than ice cream?" Oliver asked with a smile.

Felicity grinned back. "It's a toss up. We'll just have to see how the date goes." Her eyes flew wide. "Meal! I meant meal. Not date. Definitely not date. It's way too soon for us to date. Not that you would even _want_ to date me…"

"Felicity," he said, pulling her out of her babble. "Let's just, get to know each other, okay? Then we'll take it from there."

His smile stretched impossibly wide at the happy glint in her blue eyes.

"Okay," she said, her cheeks still tinted an adorable red from embarrassment. Not that she had any reason to be embarrassed.

If he was being honest, his heart was sort of hammering in his chest at the thought of having dinner with this woman. There was just something about her.

"I'm really glad I got stuck on that elevator with you," he said, his eyes meeting her's.

"Me too," she admitted softly as the waiter came to take their orders.

As they talked, the ring in his pocket didn't feel like it was weighing him down for the first time since his mother handed it to him. He wasn't sure if that was because he was no longer preparing to give it away, or if it was because, for the first time, he was starting to believe that maybe that fairytale pipe dream type of love did exist if he could just find the right person. And, watching Felicity chat animatedly across from him as the waiter delivered their meals, he wondered if maybe he had.

Three years later, on his wedding day, he'd tell the story of meeting a woman on an elevator and how she'd changed his life in ways he never could have imagined. Of how she'd inspired him and shaped him into a man who believed in love more and more each day. And she'd look at him when it was her turn to speak her vows and reply, tears in her blue eyes and a bright smile stretching across her lovely face, "Well, we could've done worse."

Their friends and family don't get the joke, but Oliver does and he can't control the happy laugh that bubbles up from his chest or the sloppy kiss he leans in to give Felicity, despite the officiant's protests to "wait until we get to that part."


	8. No More Brownies

**This is a continuation of chapter 6: Pancakes.**

 **Idk if I'll do more in this universe, but this little story was just begging to be told so… Hope you like it :)**

 **###**

 **1:36 a.m**.

Her hand gripped the steel handle tightly, rattling the door for much longer than it should have taken her to realize that it was locked.

"Oh, come on!" Felicity protested, throwing her hands in the air.

She leaned in, a little off balance, and pressed her face to the glass, trying to see into the room on the other side, but the lights were off and everything was dark. That should have been her first clue that the diner was closed, she supposed.

"Gah!" Felicity groaned, turning to lean back against the doors.

It was late. Much later than Felicity had meant to stay out, but her friend Danny had dragged her to a party and one thing had led to another which ultimately led to Felicity wandering around Cambridge at God-only-knows in the morning looking for a midnight snack. Danny was still at the party, just a few blocks back. The last Felicity had seen of her, the girl was making out with some guy who hadn't shut up about his rowing team once all night. Well, except for when Danny had plastered her mouth to his, _making_ him shut up about it.

Felicity had ditched soon after that because she was starving—all she'd eaten that night was a brownie—and the only food left at the party was pizza bites and some guy with bangs was hogging them all. No way was Felicity going to fight a guy with bangs for pizza bites. Gross. But the grumbling in her stomach could not be denied, so she'd headed out in search of sustenance. Only this damn diner didn't want to feed her.

Releasing a heavy sigh, her thoughts turned to food. A big greasy cheeseburger and fries. Or a personal pizza—and by personal she meant a whole pizza that she ate by herself. Personally. Ooh! Pancakes!

Yes! Pancakes with so much maple syrup. And butter. All the butter. _Ugh, if only this stupid diner was open_ , she thought, grabbing onto the handle and shaking it in a vain attempt to force it to feed her.

In her slightly buzzed state, and thinking about how hungry she was, Felicity was reminded of the time the hot guy in his underwear made her the best damn pancakes she'd ever eaten.

 _Oliver_! she remembered, suddenly. Oliver was a great pancake maker. Pancaker? Was that a thing? It should definitely be a thing.

Wobbling slightly, she pulled herself up by the door handle and reached into the pocket of her cargo pants, pulling out her phone. Three weeks ago Oliver had given her his phone number for exactly this reason, hadn't he?

 _If you ever need pancakes, give me a call_. Something like that. Well, she was in great need of pancakes and he was the only pancaker she knew, so she leaned over her phone, focusing on finding the icon for her contact app. Once she had it, it was simply a matter of finding Oliver in her contacts. Next to his name she'd written Frat Boy. Yup. That was the one.

The phone rang and rang, the glass of the doors cool between her shoulder blades. Felicity was tired, but not so tired that she could ignore her grumbling stomach.

"Hello?" came an irritated voice through the phone.

"Ol-i-ver," she hiccuped.

There was a pause, some shuffling noise and then, "Who is this?"

"It's… It's Fliss-ity. Remember?"

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number," he said and she shook her head vigorously because he gave her this number. To call in case of pancake emergency!

"No, it's me. You're my pancaker, remember?"

"Your… what?"

A guy in a red hoodie walked past Felicity and she threw him a nod as she said, "My pancaker. The person who makes me pancakes when I need them. Which I do, by the way."

"I don't… Wait. Is this Felicity? From MIT? The goth?"

"Ding, ding, dong!" she cried out, grinning as she spun to lean her head against the glass of the diner. There was still no one inside. "MIT? Check. Goth? Check. Pancakes? Not check, which is why I need you. I need you to check me."

A loud snort came through the phone. "Are you drunk?"

"I am pleasantly buzzed," Felicity protested. "And I ate a brownie, which may have contained pot. I'm not sure. I've never been high before so…"

There was some more shuffling and whispered voices before Oliver said, "Where are you?"

Felicity glanced up at the awning over her head. "At the diner with the blue awning."

"No," Oliver laughed. "Felicity, I need you to tell me where that is? What's the diner called?"

"I don't know," she complained, spinning around to face the street again. She didn't see a sign anywhere. "It doesn't have a name. It's dark."

She heard a grunt and then, "Felicity, I'm coming to get you, but I need to know the name of the diner, okay?"

"I don't know, the one off Broadway?" she asked. "I'm itchy. And hungry. Are you bringing pancakes?"

"Okay, I'll be there in five minutes," he promised. She could hear a woman call his name in the background, but he ignored her, instead saying, "Don't move from that spot, Felicity."

 **1:53 a.m.**

Oliver made it to the diner in record time.

He'd been there before, many times. It usually stayed open late on weekends, perfect for the college crowd, but for whatever reason it was closed tonight. And sitting right outside, her back against the doors, was his favorite goth.

She was wearing all black, just like the first time they met. Her long dark hair a striking contrast against her pale skin. But tonight she looked paler than that first time, even under the orange hued street lamps. He quickly pulled his car to the side of the road, cutting the engine.

"Felicity?" he called, approaching her slowly as not to startle her. The last thing he needed was some drunk girl screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night and getting him in trouble. His dad would _love_ to get that phone call. But she wasn't just some drunk girl, Oliver reminded himself.

No, this was his goth girl. He'd only met her once, a few weeks ago, and he hadn't seen her since—not until tonight, at least—but he'd thought about her. More than he cared to admit.

He hadn't even slept with her! She was just the roommate of one of his many conquests. But he'd woken the morning after to the girl—Rachel, Brenda? Whatever—pulling her pants on and scurrying out the door because she was late to class. He got up to do the same, washing his face and hands in the kitchen area, when he heard grumbling coming from the other bed. Sure enough the roommate they'd kicked out the night before was asleep, her black hair spread out on the pillow, her lips pouty from whatever dream she was having. He thought she looked like a feisty kitten. She was all dark and angry, but in her sleep she was kind of… adorable.

He still didn't know what had caused him to do it, but he spotted the pancake mix on a shelf and decided _why not_? When she woke up a few minutes later, they didn't have some grand romantic moment. In fact, she'd turned him down when he hit on her. Which, in hindsight, might have been what had caused his fixation. No one ever turned down Oliver Queen. She was an anomaly and he'd just wanted a chance to figure her out. So he left her his number and tonight she'd finally used it.

Too bad she was super drunk from the looks of her.

"Felicity, it's Oliver," he said slowly, crouching down in front of her. "Remember me?"

She rolled her big blue eyes, eyes that were accentuated by the thick kohl liner surrounding them. "Of course, I remember you. I just called you."

Only it didn't come out like that. Sure, he understood what she said, but it came out more like, "F'courth thigh memba you. Thigh juth call you."

Oliver did a double take. She hadn't been slurring her words that badly on the phone a few minutes ago. She couldn't have gotten _more_ drunk in the last five minutes.

That's when he noticed the bright red patches across her chest and arms. Her lips were puffy in a way that could have come from a great make out session, but he suspected that wasn't the case.

Felicity raked her nails along her inner forearm, scratching the skin raw. "I dun feel tho good, Olver."

She looked terrible, and Oliver was reminded of a guy in his fraternity who'd had a shellfish allergy. He'd gotten hives all up and down his arms and within twenty minutes he'd been gasping for air. An ambulance had to come to take him to the hospital.

If that happened to Felicity…

"Felicity, I think you're having an allergic reaction," he said urgently, cupping her cheek to get her to meet his eyes. She leaned into his touch, her eyes slipping shut, and the rush of protectiveness he felt for this girl amplified, burning in his gut. Without another thought, Oliver wrapped one arm behind her back, slipping the other under her knees. "Let's go," he said, hefting her into his arms.

"Wath it the brownie?" she asked slurring her words. "I bet it wath the brownie. There wath definitely pot in there."

Oliver placed her in the passenger seat, taking care to seatbelt her in, before he hopped in the driver's side and took off towards the hospital.

 **7:25 a.m.**

Ugh. Was this a hangover or had she gotten hit by a truck last night? Because Felicity felt like she'd gotten hit by a truck.

"Mmm," she moaned loudly, not caring if she woke Rebecca. Hopefully, Rebecca wasn't even home, that way she could sleep for another few hours before having to make contact with another human being.

"Hey, Sunshine," a voice—a male voice—said softly from beside her bed, causing Felicity to jump.

But, considering how awful she felt it was really more of a slight jerk than a jump. With all of her might, Felicity managed to crack one eye open just in time to see a man lean down beside her, head twisting to the side as he watched her.

Some distant part of her mind told her this man was gorgeous. Blue eyes, great hair, stubble she wanted to reach out and touch. But the other part of her—the much louder, meaner part—demanded she focus on other things. Like the pounding in her head and the sheer exhaustion weighing down her limbs.

"Wha—" Felicity scrunched up her nose and tried to swallow, but her mouth was so dry.

"Here, drink this," the man said, slipping a hand under the back of her head and guiding her up the pillows, just enough that she could take a sip from the blue plastic cup in his other hand.

Once she'd had her fill, she relaxed back into the pillow behind her. It wasn't her pillow, she could tell, because her's was super squishy. She'd gone to the store specifically in search of one that met her squishiness standards. This pillow came no where near squishy standards. In fact, this pillow was thin and a little bit scratchy against her cheek.

"You scared the crap out of me last night," the man beside her said, drawing her attention back to him.

"Oliver?" she asked, recognizing him now that she was feeling slightly more alive. "What are you doing here? Where are—"

Suddenly, memories from last night—the party, drinking, the brownie… calling Oliver—all came rushing back to her and she jerked upright in bed, despite her body's protests.

"Oh, no," she groaned. "No, no, no. Please tell me you're a figment of my imagination and I'm just losing my mind instead of my dignity."

Oliver grinned at her, reaching out to brush her hair back from where it had fallen into her face. His touch was surprisingly tender, and she was so caught off guard that she allowed it.

"Don't worry," he said, with a smirk. "I thought you maintained your dignity just fine through the stomach pump and the classic rendition of Baby One More Time."

" _Why_?!" Felicity whimpered, turning her face away from his stupid smiling eyes. He didn't need to look so delighted by her misery.

"They gave you a lot of Benadryl," he laughed. "Don't worry, I didn't take any videos." His smile melted into a look of real concern and she had a flashback to last night, when he was looking at her outside the diner. "I was a little more concerned with you going into anaphylaxis in my car on the way here."

"Oh." She remembered hives and feeling really itchy. She was pretty sure her tongue started to swell, but after that… nothing.

"There were nuts in the brownie you ate," he said, sitting back in the plastic chair he'd pulled over to her bedside. "Apparently, you're allergic."

Felicity closed her eyes, leaning back into the terrible pillow behind her. "Yeah. I should have known better than to trust a college party brownie. In my defense, though, I did ask if there were nuts in it first." Opening her eyes, she turned to look at Oliver, who was just watching her quietly. "Why did you come get me last night? I'm sure you had other things to do than bring a virtual stranger to the hospital."

"You called," he said simply.

"Yeah, but," she shook her head, "you had no obligation to me. And I seem to remember hearing a woman's voice on the phone last night."

"Yeah, she wasn't very happy with me," he grimaced, then looked back at Felicity with a shrug. "I don't know why, I just… heard how messed up you sounded and needed to make sure you were okay." He pointedly raised one eyebrow. "Good thing too, or else who knows what could have happened."

She knew he was trying to tease her, trying to act like a smug jerk who wanted credit for saving her life. But his blue eyes held no smugness, just the same concern she'd seen since last night, as he pretended to leer at her.

"You're right," Felicity said, a teasing lilt to her voice, even though she wasn't feeling particularly flirty this morning. But she'd come close to a disaster last night and this man had stayed with her through it even though he didn't have to, so she smiled despite feeling like crap. "Anything could have happened if you hadn't shown up. You're my hero and heroes deserve a reward for their good deeds."

Finally, the concern and worry in his eyes was replaced by amusement and maybe the slightest hint of desire. "Oh, yeah?" he breathed. "What kind of reward?"

Felicity grinned, irrationally amused that, despite everything he must have seen last night, he still wanted to have sex with her. Leaning close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek, she whispered, "The pleasure of my company while you drive me back to my dorm so that I can finish sleeping this off."

When she pulled back he groaned, but he was still smiling.

"Fine," he said, helping her to her feet before handing her a bag of her clothes and possessions. "Tease me, your knight in shining armor. Or should I say, your pancaker? Is that what you were calling me last night?"

Felicity blushed. "No…" she said, pointing her finger in his direction. "I didn't say that. I said pancake maker. I was drunk, slurring my words… High on poisonous brownies."

Oliver somehow smiled even wider at that answer. "Yeah, no more brownies for you, alright? Now, come on. We'll get you signed out and then I'll take you for some pancakes later if you're feeling up to it."

After a slightly suspicious glare in his direction, Felicity grinned. "Make it pizza and you've got yourself a deal. Now turn around so I can get dressed."

Oliver laughed, turning around so she could change back into her jeans and t-shirt from the night before. To her surprise, he didn't even try to sneak a peek.

"Just so you know," she said, discarding her hospital gown on the bed. "Pizza does not equal a date."

"Did I say it was a date?" he asked, glancing at her as she made sure all of her things were accounted for.

"No," Felicity shook her head, "but I know your type. You think a woman talking to you me as you're going to get laid."

Oliver had the gall to look offended for half a second, before he dropped the act and grinned at her. "To by fair," he shrugged, "it usually does."

"Well, not this time, buddy," Felicity declared. Once she was certain her wallet and phone were in the same condition she remembered, she stuffed them into her pockets and headed for the hall. "Just friends, that's all I'm after."

"Friends," he muttered, searching her face for something. Felicity wasn't sure what, but when he found it, he nodded once and gestured for her to go ahead of him. "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

Even though it had been her idea, Felicity wondered if being friends with someone like Oliver was a recipe for disaster. The answer, she decided as he smiled at her—looking gorgeous even in florescent lighting at seven in the morning—was a resounding yes.

But she still smiled back.


	9. Guys and Gyms

_Kinda based off the Olicity Fic Challenge prompt: "i came to the gym to work out but holy god i can't stop watching you do one armed push ups that's so hot". Very loosely anyway. And also inspired by machawicket's Unbearable Hotness of Being because I really really wanted to try writing in text format. It's a lot harder than she makes it seem!_

 _###_

 **Felicity (6:35 pm):** What in the world were you thinking making me join a gym?

 **Iris (6:37 pm):** I didn't MAKE you join anything. I said "hey we should join a gym" and you said "yeah that sounds like fun and also probably a good idea since I'm getting a big belly from all that Big Belly Burger."

 **Felicity (6:37 pm):** That is actually not what I said. But whatever. Where are you? Wasn't the point of joining the gym together so that we would, you know, go to the gym TOGETHER?

 **Iris (6:37 pm):** I know. I know. I'll be there in 20. A half hour tops. I swear. This meeting with our editor is running over but I'll leave as soon as it's over.

 **Felicity (6:38 pm):** Sigh. Fine. I'll just wait here, watching all these athletic people get into even BETTER shape.

 **Iris (6:38 pm):** Or, you know, you could get on a treadmill.

 **Felicity (6:38 pm):** And let them see me make a fool of myself? No thank you. I'll wait until I have an out of shape partner in crime.

 **Iris (6:39 pm):** Did you just call me out of shape?

 **Felicity (6:39 pm):** I love you ;) Besides I'm worse than you. I can't think of the last time I did something active.

 **Iris (6:41 pm):** Does sex count? ;P

 **Iris (6:41 pm):** Ugh. Why is my boss soooo anal? This meeting could have been over twenty minutes ago if he didn't have to micromanage everything.

 **Iris (6:42 pm):** Eddie asked me out again btw. I told him I'd think about it. So what do you think?

 **Iris (6:42 pm):** I know he's my dad's partner. And he's a little older than me. And also there's the whole Barry thing which… yeah. Nope. Not thinking about it. Anyway I really like Eddie and I haven't been on a date in a while. It could be fun, right? I think I'm going to do it.

 **Iris (6:44 pm):** Felicity?

 **Iris (6:46 pm):** Don't tell me you actually got on a treadmill. Did you find the smoothie bar and are now trying to convince them to put sugar in yours? That seems more likely.

 **Felicity (6:47 pm):** Hey! I would not do that. Besides, there's no point. They don't have any sugar. I asked. And yeah. Eddie's nice. Do Eddie.

 **Felicity (6:47 pm):** Not DO Eddie. Go out with him. Or, you know, whatever you want just…

 **Felicity (6:47 pm):** Iris. You need to get here. Quickly.

 **Felicity (6:47 pm):** I was bored and wandering around watching the fit people getting fit and I stumbled on this guy. Literally. I tripped on the corner of this rowing machine and boom. I fell right on top of this guy doing pushups. One handed pushups.

 **Felicity (6:47 pm):** Irrrrriiiiiiiiissssss.

 **Iris (6:48 pm):** Did you hurt him? Is he threatening to sue? Cause that's not my area of expertise. You'd have to call Laurel for that.

 **Felicity (6:49 pm):** Laurel is a prosecutor not a defense attorney. But so not even the point! Iris he's hot. So fracking hot! And sweaty.

 **Felicity (6:49):** I mean *sweet. But also sweaty I guess. Sooooooo sweaty. His shirt is like sticking to him.

 **Iris (6:49 pm):** Oh! So what happened? What's going on? Why are you texting me when you should be talking to sweaty hot guy?!

 **Felicity (6:50 pm):** I did talk to him. He helped me up and Iris. His hands. Omg. Then he asked if I was okay and I asked him too cause you know I FELL ON TOP OF HIM. But he was fine and said he was more worried about me (!) then he smiled. Irrriiiiiissss!

 **Iris (6:50 pm):** Nice smile?

 **Felicity (6:51 pm):** It was like staring into the sun. Gah. How can anyone be so attractive? He's all blue eyes, blonde hair and muscles!

 **Iris (6:51 pm):** What did you say?

 **Felicity (6:51 pm):** I said, and I quote, IT'S NOT THE FIRST TIME I'VE BEEN ON TOP OF A SWEATY GUY.

 **Felicity (6:52 pm):** He was nice about it but… I think I'm going to sew my mouth shut. Do you think a plastic surgeon would do that for me? For cheap? It's just a needle and some thread right?

 **Iris (6:53 pm):** I laughed out loud. In the middle of my meeting and now my editor is giving me the evil eye.

 **Felicity (6:53 pm):** Oh, I'm so sorry for you. I'm just currently hiding near the locker rooms in shame, but how terrible that you should get in trouble for laughing out loud at my pain!

 **Iris (6:55 pm):** Meetings over! I'll be there in 15.

 **Felicity (6:56 pm):** Iris. He's coming over.

 **Felicity (6:56 pm):** What do I do? Iris?! Text me back so I don't look like I'm fake texting!

 **Iris (7:08 pm):** I'm here. I'm here. I'll be right in.

 **Iris (7:10 pm):** Holy hotness, Batman! That's the guy? The one you're flirting with on the treadmill?

 **Iris (7:10 pm):** Is he helping you run on a treadmill? Really? Oh. Oh my. He does have a nice smile. And he's not even looking down at your boobs while you run. Are you sure he's not gay?

 **Iris (7:11 pm):** Guess not. He definitely just snuck a peek of your ass when you bent to get your water bottle.

 **Iris (7:11 pm):** Well. I guess I'll just go find my own treadmill. Alllllllllll the way down at the end. Where hot guy won't be distracted by my out of shapeness and heavy breathing.

 **Felicity (7:39 pm):** I'm sorry! I got distracted talking to Oliver. That's his name! He wants to take me to get smoothies. Real ones. With sugar instead of protein powder!

 **Iris (7:40 pm):** That's fine. Go have fun. Leave me here to work my buns off. Alone.

 **Felicity (7:40 pm):** What buns? Your waist is teeny. You know I was just kidding about you being out of shape.

 **Iris (7:40 pm):** Teeny, maybe. But out of shape nonetheless. Yesterday I got out of breath walking up the stairs to get coffee at work.

 **Felicity (7:40 pm):** …it's three steps. And who uses words like nonetheless while texting?

 **Iris (7:40 pm):** Exactly. And me! I am a writer after all. Seriously though. Go. Have your smoothies with Oliver ;)

 **Felicity (7:41 pm):** Oh shut up. We're only going to the ice cream place down the street. Come over when you're done?

 **Iris (7:42 pm):** Ice cream? What happened to smoothies?y

 **Felicity (7:42 pm):** He might look like a Greek god but apparently he's pretty easy to persuade if there's ice cream involved.

 **Iris (7:42 pm):** I think he might be a keeper.

 **Felicity (7:54 pm):** He likes mint chip!

 **Iris (7:55 pm):** Definitely a keeper.


	10. Unexpecting

**This is part of a Drabble series for MTV Ship of the Year on tumblr. If you want to find me on tumblr I'm spaztronautwriter :) Come say hi!**

"Knock, knock."

Oliver glanced up at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her there. She never stopped by his office unless there was an Arrow emergency.

"Felicity, hi." He started to stand but she waved him off.

"Hey." She smiled, taking a seat across from him. "I was in the neighborhood and thought maybe we could talk?"

Oliver blinked. "Yeah. Of course. What's going on?" He looked down at his watch and noticed the time. "I have about ten minutes to spare."

"Oh," Felicity said, looking less certain than she had when she'd knocked on the door. "I didn't…" She started to stand. "Maybe we should just talk later when you're not busy."

"No!" Oliver said, abruptly. If he had ten minutes with Felicity he damn well wanted his full ten minutes with Felicity. He got too few and far between with her nowadays. "It's okay. I'm just waiting for them to set up in the press room. Standard stuff. Nothing important."

"Oliver Queen having a press conference has become standard stuff," Felicity mused, retaking her seat with a small grin.

He grinned back at her. "What did you want to talk about?"

Felicity's smile dropped and Oliver felt his heart stutter in his chest. What could she possibly have to tell him? All of the awkwardness and heartbreak of their breakup had dissipated. They were growing closer as friends everyday and, aside from… one minor incident, they'd been doing really well.

Maybe being friendly was the wrong move. Maybe she had moved on, found someone new. Was she there to tell him she was dating someone else?

Oliver took a breath, centering himself. He couldn't let himself worry about that sort of thing. It wasn't his right anymore. He'd given it up the moment he'd lied to her.

Felicity, across from him, took her own deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Pregnant.

Oliver's mind blanked for a moment. Void of everything but that one word. Then everything came rushing back in such force that all he could think was _the new guy already got her pregnant?_

"Oliver?" Felicity's voice was soft, timid. It pulled him out of his thoughts and back into his office where she was sitting across from him, eyes wide and blue as she worried her lip between her teeth. "Did you hear me?"

Oliver nodded once. Then stood up. Then sat back down, all in quick succession. "Pregnant?" he asked, brows furrowing as he glanced at her.

The corners of Felicity's lips started to pull up into a smile and he realized he was fidgeting with the papers on his desk. Stacking them and pushing them around distractedly.

"I'm pregnant, Oliver," she repeated. "Having a baby."

Somehow her clarification helped. She was having a baby. They were having a baby?

"Was it…"

"That time in the bunker? When we fought and then finished off all of Dig's whiskey?" She smiled. "Yeah."

"Oh."

It was all he could think. Feel. Process.

Oh.

Felicity was pregnant. They were pregnant. They were having a baby.

And they weren't even together anymore.

Oh.

"Um…" Oliver started, awkwardly. "What are we going to… I mean, what are you thinking?"

Felicity watched him for a moment, which made him want to tug at his tie, but he couldn't do that because he had a press conference in five minutes.

"I think that we should—"

"Mayor Queen?" his assistant said, knocking slightly on the door. "Everything's ready."

"Thank—" His words stuck in his throat and he had to try again. "Thank you, Natalie. I'll be there in a minute."

When he glanced back at Felicity she was biting her lip again.

"I think maybe we should talk about this later," she said after a moment. "When you aren't so busy. I just…" She smiled nervously and glanced down at her hands folded over her purse. "I just found out and wanted to tell you."

Oh.

"They can wait."

Felicity's head shot up. "No. No, this is important, Oliver. Being mayor is important to you and it's important to this city. They need you." She licked her lips then smiled. "We need you."

"That's why I want to stay," he said, standing to walk around the desk.

Felicity shook her head and stood up. "I'll be here when you're done," she assured him. "We'll talk then."

Oliver paused, knowing she was right. They had time to talk. He wasn't going off to war, even though press conferences sometimes felt like it. He'd be done in an hour. At most.

"Okay," he said, nodding. "Okay, order something to eat and I'll be back soon. We'll talk."

Her grin along with her response of, "Oh! I get to say I'm eating for two now, right? So I can order extra fries without feeling guilty?" had his heart beating wildly in his chest. Was it even possible to be this happy? Oliver had never felt anything like it before.

"Unless you want to come with me?" he said, feeling flirty. "I'm sure the press would love to run a pregnancy announcement right along with the news that parking meter fees are going up in January."

Felicity laughed, reaching out to touch his arm. "I think it's a little too soon for that, Oliver."

He opened the door, but not before tangling his fingers with hers for a moment. "Okay," he agreed, turning to see his assistant waiting patiently outside.

"Mayor Queen, you're going to be—"

"A father," he grinned, smile so wide it hurt his cheeks. "I'm going to be a father."

"Oliver!" Felicity sighed, smacking his arm.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it!"

Natalie glanced back and forth between the two of them, obviously uncomfortable, but shrugging off the awkwardness quickly.

"I was going to say late, but congratulations, I guess."


	11. Unexpecting: Part 2

**This is part 2 of a story I wrote for MTV SOTY. There will probably be one more part :)**

###

The sound of flesh hitting wood and heavy breathing filled the bunker, as Oliver took his frustration out on the training dummy.

He desperately wanted to go check his phone, again, for what would have been the twentieth time in the two hours he'd been down there. Instead, he took a deep breath and let off with a series of hard strikes, hard enough that, were he facing an actual opponent, they'd be a bloody pulp by the time he was finished.

Felicity was on a date.

Okay, Oliver knew that it wasn't a _date_ date. It was a work date. But she'd said that about her first date with Palmer, too. The one that ended with her kissing the man that had stolen his family's company.

Which, Oliver reminded himself, wasn't any of his business then and it isn't any of his business now. Back then he'd told her they couldn't be together so she'd found a man she could be with. Now… Well, he'd lied and ruined their relationship. If Felicity decided it was time to start dating again, Oliver would just have to be supportive.

 _But it's different this time_ , a little voice whispered in the back of his mind. _She's pregnant with your child._

Oliver shook it off and landed another hard blow on the training dummy. Felicity being pregnant didn't change things between them. Not really.

They'd agreed that even though everything would be different now, _they_ weren't. This wasn't a magic cure-all to their problems. They'd both acknowledged that they needed to take this situation seriously and not try to force anything, because a child was involved now.

Oliver didn't want to be the type of dad that only saw his kid on the weekends, it was bad enough what happened with William, but to miss out on another child? Felicity had assured him that she didn't want that either. They wanted to be a family, as close as they could be without actually being together. And, according to Felicity, as long as they respected each other's friendship and maintained an open dialogue they'd be fine.

Fine. Yeah. Oliver certainly felt _fine_ right now.

He landed three more quick blows to the dummy before stepping back and grabbing his water bottle. The urge to check his phone struck again and this time Oliver let himself give into it. The device showed no missed calls or texts, but Oliver tapped the screen anyway, opening Felicity's last text.

 _Last minute dinner with Mark. I'll text if I can make it tonight. If not I'll see you tomorrow._

Mark.

Oliver wanted to roll his eyes just thinking about the Director of Applied Sciences for Kord Industries. He'd only met him once, but once was enough.

Since getting Palmer Tech back, Felicity had been trying to recruit new blood to the company. Mark Hellinger was on the top of her list. She'd wined and dined him, even brought him to a charity gala at City Hall, and still Mark couldn't seem to make up his mind about the job.

Oliver didn't by it for a second. Mark was interested in the job. He was just also interested in Felicity, which was why this was their fifth "business dinner" in two weeks.

Not that it was any of his business, Oliver reminded himself. Even still, Oliver couldn't stop himself from wondering what if.

What if Felicity was dating this guy? What if it got serious? Would Mark still be around when the baby was born?

The thought of another man raising his child while Oliver was relegated to "weekend dad" made him want to start punching the dummy again. But that was a possibility that Oliver knew he needed to resign himself to. Maybe it wouldn't be Mark Hellinger, but eventually it would be someone else. Felicity was the most exceptional woman he'd ever met. One day, someone else, someone better than him, would realize that and that would be it. And then Oliver would have to learn to share her, share their child, with another man. He wasn't sure he could, but he swore to himself that he _would_ because he needed her, them, in his life. He couldn't risk losing her more than he already had.

As Oliver pulled his shirt on, desperately trying to shake off his bleak thoughts, the elevator chimed, signaling someone was on their way down.

Felicity.

Oliver felt his body tense, his heart beating rapidly, and he tried to calm himself before she came down to find him a sweaty, anxious mess, sitting there waiting for her like a lost puppy. Quickly moving to his workspace, Oliver started sharpening arrows, hoping to look busy. Like he wasn't just obsessing about her work date. Like he wasn't just thinking about custody agreements and her marrying other men. Like he wasn't totally pathetic.

The elevator chirped again, the doors sliding open.

"I can't _believe_ I wasted a month—a month, Oliver!—recruiting that… that… idiot!"

Her voice rang out behind him and Oliver didn't need to turn around to know that she had her angry face on. He did anyway.

Felicity stomped up onto the dais and threw her purse down onto her desk. She was wearing a sleek maroon dress with some sort of buckles near the collar and Oliver thought she looked nice. Business dinner appropriate, but still beautiful. Although Oliver was bias. He always thought she looked beautiful, even with her face red and pinched with righteous anger.

"What happened?" he asked, walking over to her as she plopped down into her chair and began jabbing at her keyboard.

"He wasn't the kind of person I want working for my company," she said, intent on her computer screen.

Her irritation and obvious dislike of the man Oliver had been so jealous of just two minutes ago, made him feel a little stupid, but the relief was worth any embarrassment. As long as Felicity never found out. He wasn't sure what her reaction would be if she did. Part of him was sure she'd tease him about it, tell him he was being completely ridiculous. The other part was telling him she'd be angry. He wasn't willing to risk that part being right.

Oliver quietly pulled a chair over, sitting close, but not too close, while she tapped away on the keys. "Do you want to talk about?" he asked.

"No," she spit, then her shoulders tensed and he watched as they rose and fell in a deep breath. "Sorry," she said, finally giving up on whatever she was doing and turning to face him. "You didn't deserve that."

"It's okay," he assured her with the barest upturn of his lips. "You had a rough night. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, Felicity's expression softened. She nodded once and then reached for his hand, sliding her fingers around his thumb and into his palm.

"Mark Hellinger is an ass," she said at last, looking at their fingers tangled together. "I knew that he wanted…" She blushed slightly and Oliver tried not to tense. "I knew that his interest was not purely professional, but I ignored it because he's extremely good at his job and we need someone like him at PT, but tonight was…"

Oliver swallowed down his outrage, trying to remain calm until he knew the whole story, but her answer to his next question would determine whether he spent the foreseeable future in jail or not.

"Did he do something?"

Felicity's eyes snapped up to meet his, wide and blue and full of worry. She looked absolutely beautiful.

"No," she said quickly. "No need to go all 'grrr' on anyone tonight." Her hand came up making a clawing motion that Oliver couldn't help but smile at.

"So what did he do?" he asked again softly, a little more relaxed.

Felicity glanced back down, playing with his fingers. "Well, it all started because the baby wanted a milkshake."

"The _baby_ wanted a milkshake?" Oliver snorted. Her glare told him it was the wrong thing to say.

"Yes, _Oliver_ ," she seethed, eyes shining with annoyance. " _Your_ baby wanted a milkshake. At that fancy French place over on 6th. Where I will not be dining again, let me tell you."

"You wanted a milkshake at a fancy restaurant," Oliver said slowly, trying to figure out how this led into Mark Hellinger being an ass.

"Yeah, and they wouldn't make me one!" Felicity threw her hands up in exasperation. "The waitress looked at me like I had three heads when I asked. So I called the manager over to offer to pay extra—because I really wanted that milkshake, Oliver. I think I'm starting to get cravings—when Mark said 'You sure you need a milkshake?' Like…" She shook her head quickly, shrugging her shoulders. "Who the hell says that to someone? Even if I wasn't pregnant, which, okay to be fair he didn't know that I was at that point—"

"You told him you're pregnant?"

Oliver didn't know how he felt about that. She hadn't told anyone else yet, even her mom. Felicity wanted to be cautious, said they should wait until she was out of her first trimester before making any announcements, and he agreed. So her telling Mark… Oliver didn't know how to feel. Probably not the wave of smugness that was currently threatening to escape in the form of a smile.

"Yes, well, no." She shrugged. "I… Just listen, alright? So Mark was being pretty damn insensitive and then the manager comes out and says they don't take special requests even if I paid more, and… Oliver, I almost offered this woman a thousand dollars for a milkshake. I almost did, I swear. But, before I could, _Mark_ ," she said through gritted teeth, "apologized to the woman because I was 'making a scene'. Making a scene, Oliver!

"So the manager leaves, and I ask him what he thought he was doing, and he goes, 'Sorry about the milkshake, but you're probably better off. I noticed you've gained a few pounds since we met. That milkshake will go right to your hips.' Like it's any of his business where my milkshake goes!"

"He said that to you?" Oliver nearly growled, suddenly filled with the same anger she was. The thought of someone insulting Felicity, _his_ Felicity, who was currently pregnant with his child, was pissing him off more than the thought of her dating had.

"Yes!" she said, throwing her hands up. "Who does something like that? So, now I'm angry and without milkshake, so I stand up and say, 'I'm pregnant, you jackass. And you're fired.' Which, yeah, I realized as I was storming out that he doesn't actually work for me yet, but…" She shrugged. "What are you gonna do?"

After listening to her story, Oliver wasn't sure whether to laugh or comfort her. If her hormones were raging tonight, he really didn't want to pick the wrong option.

"It's okay, Oliver," she said, with a tilt of her head. "You can laugh at me now. Everyone else in Star City will be. I can already see the headlines: Spoiled CEO Goes on Milkshake Rampage." She leaned forward, her head falling into her hands. "Is this what being pregnant is going to be like?"

"Cravings are perfectly normal in the first trimester," he assured her, hesitantly reaching out to cover her hand with his. She didn't flinch away, so he laced his fingers through her's again, the way he was yearning to. "As are mood swings."

"You get that from your books?" she teased, glancing up at him. "Yeah, don't think I haven't noticed the stack of pregnancy books you've got in the back room."

Oliver felt his cheeks heating. "I just… want to be prepared."

Her fingers squeezed his. "I'm glad. It means a lot."

"It's my baby, too," he said. "It's a big responsibility, the pregnancy and after… I need to be prepared."

Felicity's eyes were shining in the light from her monitors. She closed her eyes, a small smile pulling at her lips. God, she was beautiful…

"So Mark's an asshole," Oliver said abruptly.

"Such an asshole, right?" Felicity looked up at him, sniffling a little, but laughing and that was all he wanted. "I was offering him a job, a good job, at nearly twice what he was making at Kord, and he thinks he can talk to me like that? I mean, who is he to judge me for gaining weight? It's not like he works out four hours a day. I bet he doesn't even know what a salmon ladder _is_ , let alone use it non-stop to get all chiseled and hard…"

She bit her lip and at first Oliver assumed she'd close her eyes and count backward from three the way she usually did when she made an innuendo around him nowadays, but instead her gaze turned inward. After a few moments Oliver finally realized what was wrong.

"Felicity, you're pregnant."

She looked at him, smiling. "I know. I didn't mean _I_ was going to start doing the salmon ladder. That's more a _you_ thing. Besides I bet it would give the baby a headache."

Oliver grinned. "No, I mean you're pregnant. Of course you gained some weight. The doctor told you it would be about five or six pounds in the first trimester."

She glanced away, a blush lighting her cheeks. "I know, it's just… No one knows I'm pregnant. They just think I'm fat."

"Felicity, five pounds is not fat," Oliver argued, but she ignored him, continuing her train of thought.

"I'm not showing yet, so you can't tell. But that just presents a whole other problem, because what happens when I _do_ start showing? When my body stretches and gets all misshapen?"

"Felicity."

"No, Oliver! This isn't happening to your body, you don't understand."

She glared at him, so he decided to try another tactic.

"You're right," he said and her eyes widened, a small crinkle forming between her eyebrows. "It's not happening to my body, but I see it happening to yours. And you know what I think of your body."

She flushed and he knew he had her attention.

"You're filling out your skirts a little more… in a very good way. And your stomach is flat right now, but when you start to show… I don't know that I'll be able to take my eyes off of you." He reached out slowly, placing a palm along her abdomen. "I know it probably isn't the same as what some asshole stranger thinks of you," he teased, "but I think you're beautiful. And you're only going to get more beautiful to me, Felicity. We're not together—and I know all the reasons we shouldn't be right now—but it's a daily struggle not to think about you like that."

He knew his little impromptu speech was risky, he could have just set their progress back months, but he thought that maybe she needed to hear him say it. Because some asshole put it into her head that she was somehow less attractive and _that_ was not something that Oliver would ever stand for, because Felicity Smoak was the most beautiful woman on the goddamn planet. And she was having his baby.

"Well," she said, inhaling slowly, "if you occasionally glance over and, you know, check out the goods… I mean, I wouldn't be mad about it." She looked up at him with a hesitant smile. "You'll really still think I look good six months from now?"

Oliver laughed. "I'll think you look good when your eighty, Felicity."

She just rolled her eyes. "I'm being serious, Oliver."

"So am I," he said, leaning back in his chair to get a better look at her. A long, obvious look. "You're body is incredible. And your boobs…" he trailed off, hoping he hadn't gone too far, but she just laughed.

"My boobs _are_ looking pretty great, aren't they? I can't believe how big they look."

"They've been distracting me for the past two weeks," he admitted.

"Me, too," she said, reaching up to touch one and Oliver's mouth went dry. "They're so sensitive."

He jumped from his chair, shaking off the wave of lust that had just hit him full force. They weren't together. They _weren't together_. She might have given him permission to look on occasion, but not to touch.

"Let's go," he said, reaching a hand out to help her from her seat.

"Where are we going?" she asked suspiciously, but took his hand without hesitation.

"Big Belly," he said, letting go of her hand and gesturing for her to go ahead. "I thought the baby wanted a milkshake?"

Felicity's laugh echoed through the quiet bunker and Oliver felt a surge of warmth swell in his chest as he followed her to the elevator.

They weren't together, but they were still _together_ and that was all that mattered.


	12. Full Circle

**_I've always wanted Arrow to end exactly where it began, with Oliver remembering coming home and what he'd thought that meant for him. Now that it's going over 5 seasons that full circle finale moment is now a full circle season finale moment, but I'm still dying to see it, even if it doesn't end quite as happily as this. I hope you enjoy this little moment!_**

 ** _###_**

Oliver stood on the dock, looking out to the bay, as the wind started to kick up. There would be a storm later, but for now the overcast sky still held a hint of sunshine.

The salty scent of the bay had him thinking back to another overcast day. A day a long time ago, when Oliver had gotten on a boat and changed his whole life. He'd done it again five years later, bobbing around on a Chinese fishing boat, waiting to finally go home.

He'd thought he knew what he was coming home to. He glanced up at the statue of the Black Canary beside him. He'd thought a lot of things back then…

"Hey." Her soft voice, barely audible above the wind, sounded beside him and her fingers circled his bicep. "It's getting bad out there."

When he looked down, Felicity was watching the whitecaps out in the bay, the wind whipping her hair back from her face.

"We still have awhile before it gets here," he replied, following her gaze.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, fingers stroking his arm.

Oliver sighed, pulling his gaze away from the bay and his memories, and focused on her. "About when I first came home. I remember thinking I knew what life had in store for me. What my legacy would be."

Her soft smile disappeared only for a moment as she pressed her lips to his shoulder, before leaning against him. "Little different now, huh?"

"Lot different." And he grinned as he wrapped an arm around her waist to rest a hand on her slightly rounded stomach. "The day I came home, I had two goals. Right my father's wrongs and try to right my own." His smile faded as he glanced back to the statue, dedicated to the woman he'd wronged the most. "I didn't know how to do that, but I did know that I'd probably die trying."

He felt her press closer and knew, in his bones, that she hated that he'd ever thought that way. She hated that he'd accepted a premature death and a life that didn't involve living. But she didn't say anything, instead choosing to curl her fingers around the hand on her stomach. The hand that rested on his new legacy. A much better one than he'd ever dreamt of.

Shaking his head, he turned back to her with a small smile which she returned. "Then I met you."

"Who would have thought," she laughed, blue eyes crinkling behind her glasses, already salt stained from the wind off the bay.

"Not me," he said. "I thought the only thing I'd leave behind was a trail of bodies, including my own. But now…" Bending a knee, he lowered himself to the ground, positioning himself in front of Felicity's stomach. "You're my legacy now," he whispered to her pregnant belly, not caring that it was cheesy and he knew Felicity would make fun of him for it later. "And I don't care that you're not here yet. I am already so, so proud of you."

He pressed his lips to her shirt, before getting to his feet. When he did, he noticed that Felicity's eyes were just as wet as his were, despite the amusement on her face.

"Let's go home," she whispered, her voice almost getting lost in the wind. But he heard her. He always did.

"Yeah," he said, leaning down to press his lips to hers once. Twice. "Let's go home."


	13. Bottomless Breadsticks

**Part 3 of the Pancake verse. I hope you guys like this and it makes sense. Also, I need food prompts so if you want to drop one in the reviews or stop by my Tumblr (spaztronautwriter) feel free!**

###

 **10:13 P.M.**

"Your date did what?"

Felicity heard a loud sigh before Oliver repeated himself, his words fast and muffled over the phone. "She stole my wallet."

"I know, I heard you." Felicity laughed. "I just wanted to hear you say it again." His irritated silence sobered her. A little. "Can I ask why she stole your wallet? Do you make it a habit of dating kleptomaniacs?"

He was quiet again and she heard a woman's voice from somewhere nearby along with the clanking of silverware. Felicity logged off the library computer and started to pick up her things. She had a test first thing Monday morning and had wanted to study, but Oliver calling sort of nixed that plan.

"I might have... been flirting with the waitress," he said in a rush. "But, in my defense, Ashley was in the bathroom at the time. Or," he sighed again, "at least, I thought she was. But it's not like I did anything terrible. It was just some innocent flirting. Sue me."

Felicity threw her bag over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Sounds like she did you one better."

"Felicity, it's not funny. Are you coming down here or not?" Oliver asked, his voice clipped and strained. "I have to pay the bill soon and I'm running out of breadsticks to pretend to eat."

She couldn't help it. She paused in the middle of the library entrance, laughing to herself at the image of Oliver Queen, billionaire, sitting in a restaurant somewhere alone, eating breadsticks he couldn't afford.

"You know what," Oliver hissed. "Sorry I bothered you. I'll call someone else."

"No, no!" Felicity gasped, calming herself and heading out the doors. "I'm on my way. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Just hurry, please," he said and Felicity could hear how uncomfortable he sounded. "Ashley left fifteen minutes ago and the waitress has already asked me if I want the bill three times."

"So flirt with her some more. It's what got you into this mess. It could probably get you out of it."

"No, see, that would work if Ashley hadn't made a big damn scene before she left. Everyone's staring at me and the waitress keeps giving me the death glare."

Despite the fact that he had gotten himself into this mess by being a jerk, Felicity's heart went out to him.

They hadn't been friends long, just a month, but they spent a good amount of time together. Enough that she knew, deep down, he was a decent guy. A good friend, anyway. He'd saved her from having a dangerous allergic reaction in the street before they even really knew each other. If Felicity was going to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, it was going to be Oliver. She did have to applaud Ashley's sense of self respect, not to mention her affinity for well deserved revenge. She might have a soft spot for Oliver, but she wasn't about to let it color her perception of him. He could be a douche, and when he was, he deserved what was coming to him. And honestly, stealing his wallet and leaving him penniless and embarrassed in some restaurant was the least harmful thing someone could do to Oliver Queen.

"Hold your horses, big guy," Felicity chuckled. "I'll be there soon."

She was just about to hang up when she heard a mocking, "Hold your horses? Is that really something people say?" from Oliver's end.

She promptly ignored his sass and ended the call.

 **10:34 P.M.**

Oliver was fake texting when he felt a presence beside his left shoulder.

Well, he was real texting, but it was only in an effort to look busy to avoid the waitress and her pointed 'ready for your check's. He wasn't used to not having a never ending trust fund at his fingertips. It made him feel too vulnerable not having access to his money.

"Excuse me, sir, but you're going to have to pay for your meal now or I'm going to call the police."

He closed his eyes and sighed. Hard. Whether in relief or annoyance, he wasn't sure. "Nice of you to finally show up. I was starting to wonder if they really would call the cops before you got here."

"Oh, relax, Queen. I'm sure you've been arrested for worse than dining and ditching."

When he opened his eyes again, Felicity was sliding into the booth across from him, laughing at her own joke. Her dark hair cascaded over her pale shoulders and he had the urge to touch her, something he was becoming all too familiar with since they started hanging out.

It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with his attraction to Felicity. He'd been attracted to her since that first day in her dorm when he'd made her pancakes, but now they were friends. Real friends, which was something Oliver didn't have a lot of. And, as it turned out, he liked Felicity. A lot. She was fun to be around. Whether they were hanging out watching tv or at a party or having dinner, he liked to spend time with her, he liked to hear her opinions. He liked the way she asked for his. Most people didn't care what he had to say. Most people didn't think he _had_ anything to say.

Felicity was smart and he liked that she treated him like he was smart too.

It was one of the reasons he'd taken so long to call her tonight after his date split with his wallet. He felt stupid and didn't really want her to know about it, but his parents hadn't answered their phones and Tommy hadn't answered his. He'd even called a few of his frat brothers, but they were busy too. So he'd finally sucked it up and called Felicity who, despite laughing at his predicament, came as soon as he called.

She leaned forward, blue eyes sparkling behind all that dark makeup as she plucked the last breadstick out of the basket in the center of the table.

"Rough night?" she teased, raising the breadstick to her dark lips.

"It wasn't the best first date I've ever had," he smirked. "But now that you're here..."

Felicity ignored his flirting, cocking her head to the side and chewing thoughtfully on her breadstick. "About that... Why me?"

"Your sparkling personality?" he joked.

She narrowed her eyes a little, studying him. He was equal parts afraid and intrigued to know what she saw.

"You couldn't get any of your friends to help you out?"

"You're my friend," he said.

He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw something flash in her eyes then. Something that looked a lot like affection.

"I meant your other friends," she said with an eye roll, but she was smiling. "That guy Tommy you're always talking about...?"

Oliver leaned forward to snap the end off her breadstick. She pulled it back quickly, looking affronted.

"Get your own!"

"That was mine," he huffed, but sat back in the booth. "Tommy's got his own date tonight. And no one in my frat bothered to text me back."

"What?" Felicity said, feigning shock. "Frat boys being unreliable, you say? No!"

"Hey! I'm a frat boy," he said. "Have I ever ignored your call?"

"Well, that's different. It's me." She smirked, but it soon shifted into a real smile. "And, in my experience, you're the only exception to the frat boy rule."

"Yeah?" Oliver grinned. It was only the sound of a throat clearing beside him that pulled him away from the blue of her eyes.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the waitress from earlier said, standing next to their booth, eyes narrowed in Felicity's direction. "But we have a dress code here."

Felicity blinked once, then twice, before glancing around at the other diners with raised eyebrows.

It was a nice place, but no one was especially dressed up and the ones who were were mostly scantily clad college girls. Not that Oliver had a problem with scantily clad college girls. He'd been here with one not even thirty minutes ago, before he'd screwed it up. But he didn't care for the waitress's assessment that just because Felicity wore baggy cargo pants and dark makeup she somehow didn't fit in with the rest of the crowd. Especially since he knew the only reason she was saying it was because of something he'd done.

"We're leaving," Oliver said, wanting to get in front of whatever Felicity's reaction was going to be. From the look in her eyes, it would only get them both into more trouble than it was worth. "Can we get the check?"

"Here," the girl said, unceremoniously tossing a leather folder containing the bill on the table before crossing her arms and smirking nastily. "Let me know when you're ready."

"We have a dress code here," Felicity mimicked, her face pinched together in a way that Oliver knew was meant to be mean, but only made her look adorable. Not that Oliver was planning on telling her that.

With a roll of her eyes, she pulled the check to her, flipping the folder open while simultaneously pulling her wallet from her pocket. He could tell when her eyes landed on the price by the way they bulged out of her head.

"$400?!" she hissed. "Are you insane? What the hell did you order?"

"Wine." Oliver bit his lip, feeling oddly ashamed even though he couldn't explain why. He'd only bought a nice bottle of wine, something he usually did on a first date, so why did he feel so ridiculous?

"Jeez. You can get a decent red for like $12 at the liquor store two blocks from here." Felicity eyed the mostly full bottle on the table beside them, then shook her head, glancing back down at the check like she was reading it wrong. "I'm wiping out my bank account for a barely touched bottle of wine. You didn't even eat dinner?"

Oliver looked down at his lap, wiping his palms against his designer jeans. "Ashley left before we ordered. I'd already ordered the wine and I didn't want to order more if you were coming," he admitted. "I'll pay you back. With interest. I swear."

"I don't want your interest," she said with a shake of her head. Retrieving it from her wallet, she tossed her debit card onto the table. "I want this wine. And more breadsticks."

The waitress came back a second later—she'd only been standing ten feet away, watching them like a hawk—to pick up the check.

"Can we get another basket of breadsticks to go, please?"

The waitress glanced down at Felicity with all the disdain she could muster. "That will be an additional charge." At Felicity's stunned look, she added, "If you want bottomless breadsticks, I suggest you try the Olive Garden."

With that she spun around, walking off to charge Felicity's card, leaving Oliver and Felicity with their mouths hanging open.

"You know," Felicity said after a moment, still staring after the waitress, "I don't say this often, but… bitch."

"I'm sorry…"

Felicity dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry about it, Oliver."

She recorked the bottle of wine just in time for the waitress to come back.

"Here," she said, tossing the receipt and Felicity's card back down on the table.

"You know what," Oliver said, through with her attitude, "I don't know what your problem is—"

"You don't know what my problem is?" She laughed, but it was cold and Oliver didn't know why he'd thought getting her number was worth all of this trouble. "Here's a tip. Next time you decide to flirt with someone else while on a date, make sure that person isn't your date's roommate." She turned on her heel and left, a chilly, "Have a nice night," tossed over her shoulder.

It took Felicity all of three seconds to start laughing. "You've got a thing for hitting on your date's roommates, don't you?"

"Let's just go," he sighed, grabbing the bottle of wine, and helping Felicity from the booth.

It wasn't until they were halfway down the street that Oliver realized he was still hungry.

"You know what this would pair well with?" he said, tugging Felicity to a stop and lifting the wine for her to see. "Pizza and a movie? My place?"

Felicity rolled her eyes, but let him tug her along to his car.

 **12:53 P.M.**

Felicity laughed too loudly at the movie they'd chosen. She felt warm and tingly, curled up in Oliver's huge bed, the glow of the TV surrounding her.

The door opened revealing Oliver, holding a brand new bottle of wine.

"Ooh!" she cooed, making grabby hands from the bed. "You found some."

Oliver collected her empty glass from his nightstand, carefully pouring a good amount. "Perks of living in a frat house. There's always alcohol somewhere. Found this hidden in Jason's closet. He'll never know it's missing."

"You're serving me stolen wine?" she said, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically. "How romantic."

"I can be romantic," Oliver said, holding out a glass for her before quickly pouring his own and climbing into bed beside her. He settled against the headboard, close enough that their shoulders were brushing.

"So romantic," she laughed, "that you flirt with waitresses during dates."

"I just asked for her number," Oliver grumbled, clearly still annoyed by the whole fiasco. "Besides, I wasn't really trying with Ashley."

"Oh, so it's different when you try?" she asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yeah." He smiled, his eyes shining in the dim room. "When I'm being romantic, you'll know."

She wasn't sure what came over her then, whether it was that damned smile or just the wine, but she grinned, twisting her body a little closer to his.

"Give me a sample," Felicity challenged, meeting his surprised gaze. And, yeah, that probably wasn't her best idea ever, but she was buzzed and he was so close and warm and pretty...

"What?"

"I just spent $400 on you. You'll get a reputation as a tease if you don't put out. Woo me."

Oliver threw his head back and laughed before sobering and inching closer, their thighs touching now.

"Okay," he said softly, taking her wine glass from her before settling it down with his on the end table. He shifted back into her space, closer than he'd ever been to her before and Felicity's breath caught in her throat.

She wasn't drunk. She wasn't. She'd only had half a bottle of wine, but she was feeling nice. Free. And Oliver smelled so good, his cologne wafting gently in the small space between them.

He took her hands in his, twisting their fingers together. "You're really beautiful," he whispered. "Your eyes..."

And, just like that, whatever wine induced spell she'd been under was broken. Felicity's hand flew up to try to suppress her giggles, but it was impossible not to laugh.

"No good?" Oliver asked pulling back, but he looked more amused by her reaction than anything. His face, even in the dim light of the room, lit up with a grin.

"No. No, I mean, maybe that works on... some girls?" She was pretty sure it didn't. Chances were it was probably his looks, money, personality or some combination that got him girls, based on his pathetic attempt to woo her.

"Some girls…" He sat back against the headboard, watching her. "Well what would you suggest then?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "The truth?"

"That was the truth," he said simply. "I do think your eyes are beautiful."

Felicity bit her lip. Yeah, okay. That was slightly better. "Well, thanks, but that's not enough to get me to sleep with someone."

Oliver paused for a moment, considering. "You know, I wasn't really all that angry back at the restaurant until the waitress made that comment about bottomless breadsticks."

"What?" Because...what? How'd they get from flirting to breadsticks?

"It pissed me off, the way she talked to you like you were beneath her just because you dress the way you do."

"It didn't matter, Oliver—"

"Yes it did. She has no idea who you are, she shouldn't judge you because of your clothes. It's not like you're the one who hurt her friend. You were just doing me a favor. You deserved to be shown some respect."

"It's not like I haven't gotten that reaction before. Even before I went goth. My mom doesn't have a lot of money. You get used to people treating you like your poor when you're, you know... poor."

"Someone's bank account should not dictate how much respect they're shown. Just look at me. I'm a billionaire, but I'm also kind of a crap human being. I cheat, I lie, I've flunked out of 3 colleges…" He paused, glancing down at his fingers as he rubbed them together nervously. "I didn't have anyone else," he said after a moment.

"What?" Felicity asked, caught off guard by his sudden change in topic for the second time that night.

"Tonight. I didn't have anyone else," he said honestly, his voice quiet. "I called my parents, but neither of them answered. I even called our housekeeper, Raisa. She answered, but before I could tell her what happened there was a crash and my little sister was yelling in the background. Raisa yelled something in Russian and then told me she'd call me back later." He looked over at her, eyes a little glassy from the wine. "You were my last call, because I knew you'd come."

Felicity studied him in the glowing light of the television, the movie still playing quietly in the background. "You seem like the kind of guy that has a million friends, but when it comes right down to it, you don't, do you?"

He blinked at her assessment.

"I don't have anybody, either," she added, hurriedly, worried he might take it as an insult. "I mean, there's my mom, but..." Felicity shrugged her shoulders. "She's in Vegas and we don't... we're very different people."

"And your dad?" Oliver asked, leaning back beside her. His warm shoulder brushed hers again and she was surprised by the amount of comfort that gave her. Especially since this was not her favorite topic ever.

Felicity shook her head. "He took off when I was seven."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not," she said forcefully. "What kind of dad would he have been if he could just leave like that?"

Felicity felt a warm hand wrap around hers and looked down to see Oliver tangling their fingers together, but this time it wasn't in a cheesy attempt to demonstrate what a ladies man he was. It was for her, to comfort her, to be there for her. She squeezed his fingers back tightly in response.

"I have both of my parents," he said softly, causing her to glance up at him, "but sometimes it feels like they're not… here. They're always off doing stuff for the company or charity events or having brunch with some big shot or another. I took advantage of that freedom." She could just make out his smile in the flickering glow of the TV, but he didn't look very happy. "I got away with murder. It's only really hitting me now that maybe that wasn't a good thing. I mean, four colleges later..."

"You've been doing good here though, right?" she asked, squeezing his fingers again.

"I've been alright. I've actually been attending classes so... there's that. Even passed a couple." He didn't look at her, instead he looked at their entwined hands as he stroked his thumb over her knuckles. "It's just amazing how I grew up with everything in the world and you're still worth a thousand of me."

"Oliver…" she breathed, and when he finally looked up she felt like she was drowning in his dark eyes.

He glanced away, suddenly, sitting up and untangling their hands. "Do you mind if I rewind this?" he asked, picking up the remote and gesturing toward the movie that was still playing. "I think I missed most of it looking for more wine."

Felicity scooched back, pulling one of his oversized pillows into her lap. "Yeah, go ahead," she said, letting him change the subject for the third and final time that night.

He picked up their wine glasses and handed hers back before settling into his spot, this time keeping a few inches between them. Turning the volume up, they both sipped their wine, eyes on the TV, but Felicity's mind was still on the look in Oliver's eyes and the sincerity in his voice and those few inches he'd put between them.

She'd been right. The truth had worked much better for him than cheesy lines and forced charm ever could.

Unfortunately for her.


	14. The Door is Ajar

**I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I don't like the way it ends, but I reread it today and it made me laugh so I hope it can put a smile on someone else's face :)**

 **###**

Oliver goes to Felicity before he tells Susan.

He's already decided he'll tell her he's the Green Arrow tonight. His biggest secret. But they've been dating for months now and if he wants them to have any real chance then he has to tell her. He's learned that much.

That's how he ends up standing in the elevator of his former campaign office and the current—(ly) cramped—office of the brand new Smoak Technologies, watching Felicity as her fingers fly over her keyboard. He'd always liked watching her work. He shook his head, remembering that that's not really something he gets to do anymore. Gaze at her while she's not paying attention. She doesn't want that and he's with Susan so…

He clears his threat.

"Oliver!" Felicity startles, her chair wheeling away from the desk a little as she looks up at him, eyes wide and hand to her chest. "We have to put a bell on you."

"I'm sorry," he says, stepping away from the elevator and closing up the secret passage by tapping that spot on the molding. "I didn't mean to scare you, but I thought you'd hear the elevator…"

"Yeah, sorry. I was…" Felicity shakes her head, gesturing to the screen. "What did you need?"

Taking a deep breath, Oliver moves to her desk. His fingers twitch, itching for his bow the way they always do when he's nervous.

"I'm going to tell Susan I'm the Green Arrow," he says. Short and sweet.

What's not so sweet is the deer in the headlights look that crosses Felicity's face before she shrugs her shoulders and stands up from her chair.

"Oh, that's…" She swallows, then tries again. "That's a pretty big step."

Oliver breathes out slowly. "I know. But if this thing with her has any hope of being real then—"

"You think it's real with her?" Felicity blurts, then gestures awkwardly with one hand while stepping closer. "I mean, you've been dating her, obviously, but I didn't know…"

She trails off and Oliver suddenly doesn't know where to look. Making eye contact with her has never been this hard.

"I think I owe it myself to find out," he says slowly. "And Susan and I… we're in a place where she deserves to know the truth."

Felicity's lips twist at that, just slightly, but then she smiles—too brightly in Oliver's opinion—and turns back toward her desk.

"Well, I guess the Arrow Cave will be getting a little more crowded after today. Not that much more crowded," she adds hastily, spinning back to face him. "Obviously, because Susan's tiny. Unless she's pregnant with twins or something I don't think she'll ever take up much space. Not—" Felicity slams her eyes shut— "that she's pregnant. I just meant—"

"Felicity," Oliver interrupts softly, but it has the desired effect. Felicity relaxes, shoulders slumping as she leans back into her desk. She still won't meet his eyes though. "I just wanted to let you know before I said anything. I already told the rest of the team, but you were up here so…"

Her eyes flash open and she watches him for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

Then she's moving back behind her desk and Oliver can't help it, he's moving too.

"I just," he starts nervously, his forefinger rubbing against his thumb. "Please, don't get mad, but I have to ask. You said," he swallows roughly, wondering why on earth he's bringing this up again, "that the door was closed between us and I just need to know if that's still the case."

Her eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before she bites her lip and nods. "Mmhm. Yup. Why wouldn't it be?"

The muscles in his jaw are straining from keeping his emotions off his face, but he had to ask. He had to make sure…

"Right," he tells her, giving her one last smile. "Well, I've gotta go to work. And you are already at work so…" He taps one finger on the desk beside her awkwardly and then straightens. "I'll see you later."

"Yup," she says, bright smile still in place as she watched him go.

###

She watches him go, her heart beating out of her chest. She's surprised he couldn't hear it, it feels so loud in her ears.

Oliver's relationship with Susan was real, or it would be after he told her his big green secret. Although, if he was even considering telling her it was because it was real. Because he…

She couldn't make herself even think the L word. She felt sick.

"Felicity, I just had a thought about the…"

Curtis comes rushing in through the elevator—second time in ten minutes she failed to notice it opening right beside her. She needs to install a chime on that thing. Although, that would sort of defeat the purpose of a secret elevator…

"Felicity," Curtis says, leaning down to look at her. "Are you okay?"

It's only when she tilts her head up to look at him that she feels the tears tracking down her cheeks. Guess an "I'm fine" isn't going to cut it this time. Instead she shakes her head and closes her eyes.

"Is this about Oliver and Susan?" he asks knowingly and Felicity's head snaps up—way up because Curtis is _tall_ —and then even more tears are falling.

"He's going to have twins with her," she sobs, knowing it's hysterical and stupid, but it's all she can think about. Oliver's inviting a stranger—not a stranger, his girlfriend—into their home and then he's going to marry her and have kids with her and Felicity's going to have watch the entire thing play out like some kind of fairytale where Felicity's the troll ex-girlfriend. And what if Susan doesn't want her around anymore? She seems like the kind of person who likes to stake her claim from the few times Felicity has met her. What if she told Oliver that Felicity had to go? What if Oliver listened to her? Because he'd have to, right? What kind of man doesn't listen to the mother of his children?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Curtis says, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Where is all that coming from? Oliver just said he was telling her about being Green Arrow!"

Felicity shakes her head, feeling stupid, but also heartbroken because her scenario might be outlandish now, but it won't be someday. Someday soon, most likely, considering the way she knows Oliver feels about marriage and children.

"What did Oliver say to you exactly?" Curtis says, one hand still on her shoulder.

"He told me he was going to tell Susan he was the Green Arrow because they were in a place where she deserved the truth and he wanted to see if things were real between them."

Curtis lifts an eyebrow and Felicity takes a deep breath, trying not to blush at her over reaction.

"And you got twins from that?" he asks.

She grimaces, her nose scrunching up in embarrassment. "There was a babble in there somewhere that got us to twins."

"From him?"

"From me," she admits, hanging her head. She lets out a long, shaky breath. "He moved on."

She says it so quietly, her voice so heartbroken, that when she looks up she's sure she'll see pity in Curtis's eyes. Except, when she does look up, the only thing she sees is disappointment.

"Of course he did," he says, shaking his head. "You've been telling him to for almost a year now."

Felicity is so caught off guard by that—it's been a year already?—that she doesn't recognize the admonition for what it is.

"Felicity, what did you think he was going to do? Just be single forever? A guy who looks like that?"

"No," she argues, "I just… I didn't think… He's always been…" She can't figure out how to explain it to him. "Except for when I first met him, he's always—"

"Been in love with you," Curtis surmises, somehow from nothing but sentence fragments. Felicity bites her lip, nodding, because basically?

She'd been so angry when she first left him, so hurt. And then she was so sure that things were over between them. That she was right and he'd never change, but then he had. He'd been changing ever since the break up and now, with some distance between her and the pain, she could recognize it. He was more open now, and this whole Susan thing only proved that he isn't interested in keeping secrets anymore. The only problem is, it isn't Felicity he's not keeping secrets from. It's someone else now. She feels herself spiraling again and looks up at Curtis, but he's still looking at her with that same disappointment in his eyes.

"He's not just going to wait forever, Felicity. He's going to move on. He's going to start a life and, eventually, probably a family with someone else," he says like he isn't slowly ripping her heart out with every word. "It's going to happen. The question is, are going to let it?"

Felicity looks at him, her unvoiced _huh_ in her eyes.

"Oh, come on!" he says, jumping up to his full height. "Haven't you ever watched a romantic comedy before?"

"My life is not a romantic comedy," she tells him. "Trust me."

"Because you two are so dead set on making it a tragedy," he mutters to himself before facing her again. "Look. Are you still mad at him?"

"No," she says quickly, because she isn't. Hasn't been in a long time. Bitter maybe, but not mad.

"Do you trust him?"

"With my life."

"No," Curtis says, shaking his head. "With your heart?"

Felicity is caught off guard by her answer. "Yes."

She wonders if maybe it isn't true. If maybe she's just saying it because she wants it to be true, but then she thinks, is there really a difference? It was the natural answer, the one that came from her heart and not her head. Even if it's something they still need to work on, she knows it could be true, with time.

"Then what is holding you back? Because Oliver still loves you," Curtis says with a shrug. "I know it might be hard to believe right now, but trust me. I've seen the way he—"

"It might," Felicity interrupts with a grimace, "not be so hard to believe."

"What is that face?" Curtis demands, pointing at said face. "What aren't you telling me?"

Felicity shrugs. "Oliver may have… askedifthedoorwasreallyclosedbetweenus." At Curtis's confused look, she sighs and says more slowly, "Oliver asked if the door was really closed between us."

"Just now?" he asks, pointing a thumb behind him in the direction that Oliver went. To work. To Susan. To his new life without her. "Felicity, that's—" he begins excitedly before it quickly fades. "What did you say?"

She bites her lip.

"Felicity!" Curtis admonishes again. "And you expect him not to try with Susan after you just told him—again—that things were over between you?"

But it's not that, she wants to argue. Sure, she's slammed the door shut on him time and time again. She'd originally done it because she needed to, and then because she was scared, because what if he does it again in the future? What if she lets him back in and he hurts her again? But that wasn't what this time was about. No, she knows Oliver feels terrible for ruining their relationship last year. She's aware that he's been hurting the same way she has and that he's been trying to do better. That he has been doing better, but… it's hard to convince herself that interfering in his current relationship would be the right thing to do.

What if she's wrong about him? Or about how she feels? What if this is just jealousy speaking? Things had been a little easier when she was with… It's still hard to think his name sometimes without the sharp knife of guilt stabbing through her gut again. She's been doing better recently, but maybe this, what she's feeling, is just loneliness. She admits that seeing Oliver with Susan while she has no one to go home to at night stings like a bitch at times—all the time—but she's been brushing it off, telling herself it was just because of everything with Billy. Except she's pretty sure she's lying. She felt this particular sting long before Billy died. She remembers feeling it before she and Oliver had ever even gotten together. She remembers it with Isabel, with Sara, Laurel… She'd even, selfishly, felt it with Nyssa once when Ra's had forced his daughter to marry Oliver in some League of Assassins form of shotgun wedding. Maybe swordpoint wedding was the more accurate term?

"Felicity," Curtis says, pulling her from her rambling thoughts. "Do you still love him?"

"Of course," she says and this answer she's not surprised with at all. The problem was never loving Oliver. She'd always loved him. The problem was whether or not he was willing to let her in. But… wasn't that exactly what he was going to do with Susan right now. He was letting her in on the biggest secret he had, a huge part of his life, and he was doing it simply because he wanted a relationship to work out for once.

Maybe… He did ask her if the door was closed for good, which means he was hoping it wasn't. Being afraid to let him back in is just as bad as him being afraid to share things with her, isn't it? Yes, he's with someone else, but…

"I love him."

"Then get your butt down to City Hall and tell him, before he really does wind up fathering some other woman's twins because you took too long."

Felicity gives him a look, but Curtis just hands her her coat instead.

"Go!"

###

It takes her too long to get to City Hall.

In reality, it's only like fifteen minutes, but to her it feels like days before she's free of traffic and running up the steps and into the building, down the hall and past Oliver's secretary, who only gives her a small smile as she darts by.

But it was still too long. She pushes open the door to Oliver's office to find him standing beside his desk with Susan, his hands on her elbows as he smiles, leaning down towards her.

They both startle as Felicity comes barreling into the room, then stops dead when she realizes what she's walked in on. He's going to kiss her. Or he was, before Felicity interrupted. Did that mean he'd already told her? Did she take it well?

"Felicity," Oliver says, but it's Susan who's takes a small step towards her.

"Felicity, are you alright?" she asks. "What's wrong?"

"Felicity," Oliver says again, softer this time as he moves around the desk, around Susan, and heads straight for her. It's only when she sees the worried look in his eyes that she realizes she probably looks like a crazy person. She'd rushed here, her hair is probably a mess, and she knows she's an emotional wreck at this point. She needs to tell him how she feels, she knows she does, but how?

"The door is ajar," Felicity blurts, with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop.

Oliver and Susan just look confused. Susan actually glances behind her at the door Felicity's just pushed her way through, uninvited.

 _Nice one, Smoak. Real smooth._

She closes her eyes and tries again. "The door," she says, gesturing helplessly to Oliver, hoping he'll just _know_ what she means. "I thought it was closed, but it's not. It's… it's ajar. Do you understand?"

She even laughs a little, nervous energy rippling through her as she waits for a reaction. His face has gone completely blank, which leads her to believe he at least partially understands what she is trying to say. His face is always blank when he's processing, or uncomfortable, or trying to figure out how to let her down easy. Oh god, what is she doing?

"I know it's probably really bad timing…"

"Ajar?" he repeats and, for a moment, she almost thinks he doesn't understand, but there's hope in his voice and his eyes and Felicity feels a tightness in her chest ease as she nods.

###

Leave it to Felicity to make him so happy just by blurting out a word like ajar.

Oliver can actually feel every broken, beaten down part of him piece itself back together at the tiny smile tugging at her lips. He wants to go to her, to scoop her up in his arms and never let go, but he can feel Susan's eyes on him.

His girlfriend, Susan. The woman he just promised to tell his biggest secret over dinner at her place in a few hours. He looks at her, at the confused and maybe a little hurt expression on her face, and turns back to Felicity.

"Could you wait in the conference room for a few minutes?" he asks her. He's petrified to let her go any further than that. She could change her mind, or get scared off. He can't risk it, not before he truly talks to her. "Please," he adds and exhales in relief when she gives him a small, but understanding smile.

The moment Felicity's through the glass doors of the conference room, Susan is already turning on him.

"So I guess dinner is off then," she says, her hurt and anger cutting through her words.

"Susan, I'm—"

"Sorry," she finishes for him. "I know." She picks up her coat from where it sits on arm of the couch. "And I get it. She's giving you another chance—I guess. I'm honestly not even sure what she was talking about, but… by the look on your face, I assume you do. That look says it all really."

"I am sorry, Susan," he tries again. "This thing with you, it did mean something. It wasn't just a rebound or a fling. I wasn't waiting for her—"

"You were," she says, roughly slipping her arms through her jacket sleeves and picking up her purse. "You've been waiting ever since she left you. And," she adds as walks to the door before turning on her heel to face him, "if I were you I'd make sure there aren't any more skeletons in your closet to scare her off again. You never know when the past will come back to bite you."

And with those ominous words, she pulls his office door open and marches out.

###

She tries to pretend to read her phone and give them some privacy, but Susan isn't exactly subtle as she gathers her things and marches out of the office, so the moment the other woman is gone Felicity makes her way back to Oliver.

He's leaning against the front of his desk, head slumped to his chest.

"Hey," she says quietly, keeping her distance in case he wants some space, but the moment he sees her his whole face lights up.

"Hey," he says back, shifting awkwardly as if he wants to move towards her, but doesn't know if he should and suddenly all she wants is to be wrapped up in his arms.

She's moving before she can think better of it, before she can decide to impose limits and a timeline and actually say the words _take things slow_ out loud. Instead she hurls herself into his arms and buries her face in his chest. Her glasses squish uncomfortably into her cheek, but she couldn't care less because Oliver is holding her. For the first time in almost a year, she feels safe and loved and… home.

And then she's crying.

She feels him stiffen, so she wraps her arms around his waist tighter, clinging to him, and finally he relaxes. He exhales slowly, running a hand through her hair, but he doesn't say anything. He lets her cry and when she finally looks up there are tears shining in his eyes too.

"Sorry," she says with a little laugh and a shake of her head. "I didn't mean to burst in here like that. Well, no, I did, but I didn't expect Susan to actually _be here_ when I did."

"Yeah, she surprised me too," he says, a hand moving slowly up and down her spine like he can't stop touching her. She knows what that's like. Both of her hands are dug into his suit jacket, probably wrinkling it, but she can't bring herself to let go.

"I'm sorry if I messed things up for you."

"Never," he counters quickly. He laughs at her incredulous look. "Really. It's fine. Though I'm kind of surprised after… well, after what you said back at your office."

Felicity nods, ducking her head sheepishly. "I know, I'm sorry. I was scared and I didn't want to promise you anything and mess up things between you and Susan, but then I didn't want you to have twins with her and Curtis said it was like a romantic comedy and this is not how I planned this speech going in my head," she finishes with a frustrated huff. "What I mean is, Curtis asked me what I really wanted and the answer was… I want to open the door again and see where it leads us."

Oliver grins and it's perhaps the most blinding smile she's seen on him since their time away from Star City two years ago.

"I want that, too," he says. "And whatever you need me to do to make this work just say the word, because if there's even a chance you might want to take me back then I'm here. I'll do anything."

"You don't have to do anything that you haven't already been doing," she assures him with a teasing smile and it feels good honestly. It's been so long since she's smiled like this, since she's felt this lighthearted. "All those changes you've been making are kind of impressive, Mr. Mayor."

Oliver shivers at her teasing, or maybe at the hand that's slipped under his suit jacket. "I've fantasized about you calling me that," he admits in a whisper.

Felicity laughs, trying to control a shiver of her own when his hands encircle her waist. "Oh, god. We're going to be even worse this time than the first time, aren't we?"

"When we left Star City?" he asks with a grin. "Oh, yeah. Way worse. But…" And he lets go of her waist to reach behind him and take her hands in his. "Also so much better."

"Yeah," she agrees, smiling up at him.

They have a lot to talk about, a lot to decide, but now that they both know where they stand, things will be much _much_ better.


	15. flirting

**Stupid FF keeps getting rid of the "at" signs so just pretend they're there lol. Anyway, hope you enjoy this!**

 **###**

She was standing in the kitchen, just finishing off her (disgusting) protein shake, when an alert lit the face of her phone.

OliverQueen tweeted a photo.

She chugged the last sip—ugh!—and swiped the screen. A second later a photo of Oliver was staring back at her and she'd be lying if she said her breathe didn't catch a little at the sight.

Tight t-shirt, crazy blue eyes, just the right amount of scruff… He was gorgeous, always, but especially standing on the deck of a yacht, leaning over the railing just enough to show off his muscular shoulders. The tweet said, "Fav pic from the MensHealth shoot." It already had over a thousand likes.

Felicity liked the tweet and threw her glass in the sink, maybe a little rougher than she'd meant to considering the way it rattled around.

It wasn't that she was jealous. She was happy for Oliver; he worked hard to maintain his physique and anyone who worked that hard for anything deserved praise and a spread in Men's Health was good for him, but ugh! Over a thousand likes in less than three minutes? Really? How was it possible?

Her phone vibrated and she looked down to see another alert.

 **OliverQueen:** FelicitySmoak you should have come with. Missed you on the boat ;)

Felicity sighed and tapped out a return message.

 **FelicitySmoak:** OliverQueen motion sickness, photogs and getting hit on 24/7? Yeah what was I thinking passing on that?

As was usual whenever she got into a conversation with Oliver on social media, her phone started blowing up. Likes and follows and retweets. Everyone wanted a piece of Oliver Queen, even if it was just in the form of stalking him on Twitter.

Even she had her claws in him in a way. It wasn't like he talked to her on Twitter because he missed her sparkling personality. No, she was the Ronald Miller to his Cindy Mancini, using his popularity and social media prowess to Can't Buy Me Love her way into the hearts of America. Or, at least, into the hearts of his millions of followers.

Her phone vibrated again, but this time it was a text.

 **Oliver:** You're getting better, but next time be more "flirty flirt" and less "I'm on my period"

 **Felicity:** First, never think my period has anything to do with my response to you. Second, how was I supposed to respond to that?

The typing bubble popped up and just sort of… stayed awhile, so Felicity put her phone down on her kitchen counter and pulled an apple out of the fruit bowl. She wasn't supposed to eat apples according to her trainer, they made her bloat, but the shake just wasn't enough for breakfast and it was either the apple or Felicity was about to go scrounging through her cabinets in search of old pancake mix.

She enjoyed acting, but everything else that came with the job—the workouts, the diets, the parties… the Oliver—it could all bite her. Well, not Oliver. If Oliver ever found out she'd thought that he'd take it as an invitation. Her phone buzzed and she looked down to read the message.

 **Oliver:** You're supposed to be using our friendship to boost your visibility. And even that bitchy tweet got a few hundred likes. But I thought we were supposed to turn you into the girl next door that every guy wanted and every girl wanted to be friends with? That was what Lyla said anyway. If you want to switch it up just let me know. Also I can hit on you a lot harder than I have been, just so you know ;)

 **Felicity:** Friendship might be pushing it. But yeah, Lyla said she didn't want me to alienate anyone so…

 **Oliver:** Pretty sure the only one you've been alienating is me. And you don't consider us to be friends? After all this help I've been offering you. Free of charge btw. You can go out and hire a social media expert and PR guy if you hate me so much.

Felicity sighed, barely holding back an eye roll.

 **Felicity:** I don't hate you Oliver. It's just… this is all so fake. I hate being fake. Last week when you and Lyla suggested that "candid" Instagram selfie? It took 3 hours!

 **Oliver:** That's because you freeze up in front of the camera. Which is ridiculous because I've seen your acting. You're good. There's no reason to choke in front of your own camera phone. And the only one making it fake is you. Maybe we're not as good of friends as I'm trying to portray, but that's only because you won't give me a chance.

 **Felicity:** Because all you do is hit on me when we're together. Or tell me how terrible I am at Twitter. Or just being a person in general.

Her phone buzzed, showing her contact photo of Oliver. She accepted the call.

"Look, I get it. All this attention isn't what you're in it for. But that's part of the gig, okay?" Oliver said, no platitudes offered. She could hear the sound of weights being moved around in the background and figured he was already with his trainer.

Being the heir of a multi-billion dollar tech company wasn't enough for him. No, Oliver lived a life of pride and sin and he lived it quite publicly. So personal trainers and nutritionists were standard stock for him. His sister Thea wasn't quite as bad, but that was probably because she was only seventeen. Even so, she still had a personal stylist that followed her everywhere she went.

And this was what Felicity was supposed to act like. She couldn't get over it. All she'd wanted to do was act. To the best of her ability, she wanted to tell stories. About women, about love, about grief. She had no idea why, in order to do that, she needed to be seen with certain people. She'd lucked out when her agent, Lyla Michaels, had introduced her to Oliver Queen, celebrity rich kid extraordinaire. Lyla's ex-husband was Oliver's body guard-slash-personal trainer and for some reason he'd agreed to taking her under his social media wing.

Before Oliver, Felicity didn't have any social media. Now she had all of them, including Snapchat. Felicity didn't even know what Snapchat was, but she had one!

"Yeah, yeah. Brand recognition and all that. God," she sighed, "I'm so sick of hearing the words brand recognition. I'm not a brand. I'm a person!"

"No, you're not," Oliver snapped back. "You are not a person to these people, Felicity. All you are is a brand. A name. And when enough people know that name, that's when you start getting opportunities, so make them know your name."

Felicity leaned back against the counter, wanting to cry. "We've been doing this for over a month now, and the only thing I've gotten from it is a few thousand followers and a tabloid rumor that I'm sleeping with you."

"The media thinks everyone's sleeping with me," Oliver dismissed. "Is that what's crawled up your ass the past couple days? Some TMZ rumor?"

"Nothing has crawled up my ass, Oliver. You know what, just lets keep my ass out of your thoughts, okay?"

"Mmm, no can do," he teased. "Your ass takes up about 65 percent of my thoughts. What would I think about?"

"Someone else's ass?" she suggested.

"Aw, but you know you've got the best ass in the game, Smoak. That's why I keep suggesting posting photos of you doing squats on Instagram. That's the kind of quality content people are looking for, trust me."

"I know exactly what kind of 'content' you usually look for on the Internet, Oliver. I've seen your browser history."

There was a pause and Felicity wanted to laugh.

"When?! How? When did you…?" he sputtered and Felicity finally broke.

"Kidding, Queen. Relax. I was tempted, but I didn't want to have to bleach my brain afterwards so I didn't peek."

"Ha," he deadpanned. "What are you doing later? Come over."

"Can't," she said. "I've got a meeting with Lyla and this indie director, Ray Palmer. He's not very popular, but his last movie was almost nominated for an Academy Award."

"No such thing as almost nominated, Felicity. Still, good luck."

Felicity smiled. It wasn't often Oliver was sweet, but when he was it made her feel all warm and bubbly inside. "Thanks. It's just a meeting, but Lyla said that he's really thinking about me for the lead."

"Is that the audition you went on a couple weeks ago?"

"Yeah. He told Lyla I'm at the top of his list, but since there's still a list at all I'm not getting my hopes up just yet."

"You'll get the part, don't worry," Oliver assured her.

"Thank you."

There was another pause, but this time she had no idea what he could be thinking. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

"I have a few more pictures from the shoot that I'm supposed to tease. I'm sending one to you. Post it later this afternoon."

"I'm posting a picture of you? On your photoshoot? Why?"

"Because you won't post pictures of your ass in yoga pants, so my face is the next best thing."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, what am I supposed to say?"

"You'll figure it out," Oliver said, then hung up without so much as a goodbye.

"No! Oliver! Dammit," she cursed, putting her phone down on the counter. A second later a message popped up on the screen and she clicked to see the photo she was supposed to post later.

It was Oliver standing in profile wearing a white t-shirt, arms rolled up to show off his biceps—very touchable biceps. Everything about him was touchable if Felicity was being honest with herself. She totally understood why everyone wanted a piece of him.

How the hell was she supposed to caption this?

 **FelicitySmoak:** Yum OliverQueen MensHealth

It took less than five minutes—and almost six hundred likes! Score!—before her phone buzzed.

 **Oliver:** Really?

 **Felicity:** You said "flirty flirt".

 **Oliver:** We need to work on your flirty flirt…

Felicity laughed and opened her Twitter app again, telling herself it was just the climbing number of likes and retweets she was staring at.


	16. Head Wounds

**I don't really know what this is, but I couldn't shake the idea so… Here's a little post 5x20 thing.**

 **###**

"Oliver, man, I really think you need to go to the hospital," Diggle said as soon as they'd gotten both Oliver and Felicity safely back upstairs into the old campaign office.

"I'm fine," Oliver argued, moving a little unsteadily on his feet before bracing himself against a desk.

The bloody gash on the back of Oliver's head from what was probably a pretty spectacular fall down an elevator shaft told a different story, but before John could argue Felicity was already at Oliver's side.

"You hit your head so hard you passed out, Oliver," she said, wrapping a hand around his wrist. "Which was not a fun couple of minutes, let me tell you. I thought…"

She trailed off, lip quivering slightly, and John didn't even have to see Oliver's reaction—the way his shoulders slumped, expression softening—to know that the argument was over.

"You should go, too," he said softly, placing a hand on top of her's on his wrist. "Your chip…"

"It's probably fine," Curtis interjected, causing everyone to look in his direction where he was standing beside Rene and Dinah. "As long as it's working again it shouldn't… be… much of a…"

John swung his gaze back around in time to see Oliver glaring at the younger man. When he turned back around Curtis's eyes had gone wide and he looked appropriately nervous.

"But you should probably still go get checked out," Curtis said, gesturing to Felicity. "Better to be safe than sorry, right? And you do have a head wound, too, so it probably wouldn't be a bad thing to…"

John was almost impressed by Curtis's Felicity-worthy babble, but his friends had clearly already tuned the man's ramble out, lost in that place where only the two of them existed. He felt his lips pull up in a smirk as he watched them interacting with each other in a way he hadn't seen in far too long.

"I'll go as long as you go," Oliver murmured after a few moments.

Felicity smiled, eyes crinkling in amusement, before she winced. Her hand shot up, gently touching the wound at her hairline. "Yeah," she agreed with a nod, "we should both go. Probably gonna need a professional to do the stitches if I don't want to end up looking like Rene."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rene asked.

"You know, cause of your…" Curtis chuckled, gesturing to his own eye to indicate the scar on Rene's face.

Oliver laughed, moving away from the desk and gently throwing an arm around Felicity's shoulders when she gestured for him to use her as a crutch, though it didn't escape John's notice that Oliver seemed a lot steadier than when they'd first pulled him out of the bunker.

"What's that supposed to mean about my face?" Rene asked again.

Curtis eyes went wide and Dinah stepped up, patting him on the shoulder, but John didn't stick around to see how that argument ended. Instead, he followed Oliver and Felicity out to his car.

###

"Everything looks okay," Dr. Schwartz said, looking at the chart in front of her. "But you really need to stop getting concussions."

"That's what I keep telling him."

Oliver turned at the unexpected voice to see Felicity leaning against the doorframe, ankles crossed. A bandage covered the wound on her forehead she'd received when the EMP had knocked them both across the bunker.

Oliver wasn't sure why he suddenly felt a rush of relief at seeing her. It could have been because she was clearly okay, despite Adrian's attack, or it could have just been that she'd bothered to come find him at all. It was probably both.

The warm smile on her face was definitely a relief after everything that went down with Helix and then Adrian attacking them in the bunker. Oliver had ended up admitting things about himself to her that he'd never so much as considered telling another human being, especially not her. But, somehow, it seemed to be exactly what they'd needed. He'd felt like a weight had been lifted as they spoke. The wall that they'd built up between them finally toppling as he confessed his biggest fears to her. And, her being here in his hospital room that smile on her face, despite everything, only proved what Oliver already knew to be true.

Felicity Smoak was remarkable.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Oh!," she laughed, gesturing to the bandage on her head. "Yeah. Didn't even take many stitches."

"I know in your line of work it can be unavoidable sometimes, but you should be cautious. Both of you," Dr. Schwartz said and Oliver saw Felicity stiffen from the corner of his eye.

Her eyes went round in surprise that the doctor knew their secret, before her expression melted into a kind smile.

"We could definitely stand to take a few less risks," she agreed, moving over towards the bed Oliver was leaning against. "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him," she said, voice soft and earnest as her gaze met his.

Like always, everything started to slip away, leaving nothing but the blue of Felicity's eyes. He remembered a time when that sensation had scared him, but now it felt like coming home. He'd missed it.

"I'll go get your paperwork started," Dr. Schwartz said, interrupting the moment. She moved for the door with a knowing smile. "When you're ready."

Oliver nodded before glancing down at his feet, suddenly more uncertain than he'd felt in a long time. He wanted to reach out, to cup Felicity's face in his palms and make sure she was really alright. But, despite the warmth that had suddenly replaced the epic cold front their relationship had been experiencing, they weren't there yet. They might never be there, Oliver admitted to himself, feeling his heart sink.

"So…" she said and he glanced up to see her smiling. "You ready to go home?"

The words cut through him. They were everything he wanted to hear, but he knew she hadn't meant them the way they'd sounded. Which she realized half a second too late, judging by the suddenly nervous look in her eye. But when she spoke, it wasn't exactly the awkward babble Oliver was expecting.

"I mean, my home. You know, the loft," she clarified, then took a deep breath and he watched as her blue eyes filled with a steely kind of resolve. "I think you should come home with me."

Oliver's mouth dropped open and he could only stare at her dumbly for a moment. Long enough that she heard what she'd said.

"Not" —she gestured wildly in front of her— "like that! I just meant..." She paused, regaining her composure. "You've been staying in the bunker and now that Chase has compromised it... I don't want you staying there." Her eyes went soft as she smiled. "Stay in the guest room. That way I know your safe. Besides" —she grinned— "I know for a fact the bed in the guest room is more comfortable than that cot you've been sleeping on."

Oliver couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face, he really couldn't. "Oh, do you?"

Felicity's cheeks flushed, but she didn't back down. She stared up at him, eyebrows lifted pointedly, until he finally nodded.

"Okay".


	17. workoutpartners

**This is a follow up to ch. 15 #flirting. Hope you enjoy it!**

 **###**

"I can't... believe... I let myself... be talked into this," Felicity panted, the mat cool against her sweaty skin as she stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath.

"Come on. You know that was fun," Oliver said, shifting until he hovered over her. His face was flushed from exertion, sweat glistening attractively on his forehead.

She hated him.

"Ugh," she groaned, pushing on his shoulder until he fell back onto mat beside her with a laugh.

"Come on, you two. You still need to do your cool down."

Tilting her head back, Felicity glared up at Oliver's bodyguard-slash-personal trainer-slash-drill instructor, John Diggle. "No!" she pouted.

The man just smirked and for the millionth time in the past hour and a half Felicity had to wonder how she'd ended up here. It wasn't that she never worked out. On the contrary, she worked her butt off six days a week, but this was something else.

"Stop being a baby, Smoak," Oliver said, getting to his feet and offering her a hand up. "I know you have more in you than this. I've seen your ass."

Felicity ignored him, wrenching herself up onto her hands to look up at him with a raised brow. "What does my ass have to do with anything?"

Oliver shook his head, walking across the gym towards one of the treadmills. Yes, _one_ of the treadmills. Because he had multiple, even though she'd never seen anyone but him working out here.

"You don't get an ass like that without hard work and discipline," he said.

"Or good genes," chirped a new voice, and Felicity turned to see Thea stepping into the room.

The girl was dressed in a patterned top and designer jeans, her short hair curled perfectly in that way that Felicity could only achieve when stylists were involved.

"How about you stop fixating on my ass?" she said, turning back to Oliver who merely shrugged before turning on the treadmill and getting to work.

As his light jog got underway he reached down, pulling his t-shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face and revealing a glistening set of abs that had Felicity turning away before she did something really embarrassing. Like drool. It was a good thing Thea was there to distract her.

"Hey, how are you?" Felicity asked, grabbing her towel from the floor near her gym bag. "I feel like I haven't seen you in awhile."

"Ugh, I know," Thea said, flicking her wrist. "School's had me busier than ever. I like it though." She smiled, leaning in conspiratorially. "There's this guy in my art history class. He invited me back to this party at his dorm last night—"

"TMI, Speedy!" Oliver grunted from the treadmill.

"Oh, we haven't even done anything." She lowered her voice, leaning back into Felicity with a wicked grin. "Yet."

Oliver groaned another complaint and Thea laughed. Felicity couldn't help but join her, sneaking a glance at the man behind her. He was grimacing melodramatically, but it quickly turned into a smile when he saw her watching.

"Felicity..." John said, watching her expectantly.

"I'm cooling down," she said, waving her hand in a fanning motion. "I'm cooling down right now."

John didn't find her joke funny. He rolled his eyes and went to join Oliver at the treadmills. Felicity took a swig from her water bottle, sitting on the bench press so she could talk to Thea.

"So what happened with that role you were telling me about?" Thea asked. "Have you heard back yet?"

"I'm actually waiting on Lyla's phone call. She told me they'd have an answer by this afternoon."

"We should go shopping!" Thea suggested, bouncing on her toes a little. "Kill some time while you wait."

"Ugh," Felicity groaned. "Believe it or not I'd rather stay here with Dig and your brother, working my butt off."

"Thank god not literally," Oliver chimed in.

"What did I say?" she growled from over her shoulder.

Oliver grinned then hit the button to turn off the machine. He grabbed a towel to wipe his face—thank god he didn't just use his shirt this time—and walked towards them.

"Come on, you had fun Felicity, admit it."

"Yeah," Diggle agreed. "You should show Thea that push-up trick you did."

"Push-ups?" Thea crinkled her nose. "Sounds awful."

"These weren't so bad," Oliver said with an obnoxious wink in her direction. Felicity rolled her eyes, but agreed. It actually had been pretty cool.

She and Oliver had been getting closer ever since they had that conversation about not really being friends. Oliver had made some sense when he said their relationship was only fake because she wouldn't open up to him. Diggle had been the one to suggest they work out together. Something about the hard work and endorphins encouraging bonding.

It had worked, somewhat. She'd liked him well enough—she always had. It was hard to completely dismiss his charming, yet oddly sincere personality—but as the weeks passed, exercise after exercise, she'd realized she actually enjoyed spending time with him, despite the eye roll worthy lines he still dropped on her from time to time. And this latest trick they'd learned showed the amount of trust that had grown over the last few weeks.

Oliver moved over to the stirrups, kneeling down and hooking his feet into them before sinking into a plank.

"This isn't some kind of sex thing is it?" Thea asked. "Because I'd really rather not know what kind of kinks my brother is into."

Oliver glared up at his sister and Felicity laughed. Diggle brought a workout ball over, positioning it just in front of Oliver's head, then motioned her over to take her place. Resting one foot on the ball to steady it, she placed her hands on Oliver's shoulders, bracing herself, then brought her other foot up onto the ball. He waited until she had settled before dipping down into a push-up. She balanced on the ball, moving with him as he lowered himself, then pressed back up. Then she took her turn. Following his lead, she lowered herself into her own push-up. Her muscles burned from her previous workout and her arms shook slightly as she moved, her nose just inches from the small of his back. She could smell the salty tang of sweat on his T-shirt, and tried to find the smell gross, but honestly it smelled good. He smelled good. She pressed up, concentrating on the the burn in her arms and legs and keeping the ball steady under her feet. They repeated the move a few times and Felicity could feel the shake in her arms becoming worse.

"Okay, one more," Diggle said. "That's it."

As soon as Felicity was steady, Oliver dropped to his knees. He held position as Felicity got down off the ball, then looked up at her with a wide smile. She smiled back and sat down on the ball to catch her breath. She threw a hand out and he high fived her.

"That was so cool!" Thea said, and she glanced over to see the girl holding a phone. Her phone, to be precise.

"Uh… Thea…? Why do you have my phone?" she asked, but she suspected she already knew the answer.

"I just uploaded the video to your Instagram," Thea said. "People are going to go crazy over this!"

Oliver laughed, grabbing Felicity's arm to make her help him to his feet. She rolled her eyes. He was perfectly capable of standing up without her help, he just liked to annoy her as much as possible. Still, she stood, pulling him with her.

"That's a good idea, Speedy. Why didn't I think of that?" he said, accepting a water bottle and his towel from Diggle. She accepted her own with a grateful smile.

"Well, maybe let me know next time?" she grumbled. "I probably look awful."

Both Queen siblings turned to her, tilting their heads and leveling her with looks so similar that it was almost creepy.

"You're beautiful, Felicity," Oliver said, his voice firm and serious. Much more serious than usual. Felicity felt a blush coming on and wiped the sweat from her face with her towel to hide it.

"Yeah, even all sweaty, with your hair falling out of its ponytail, Ollie still can't take his eyes off you," Thea teased, and Oliver threw his sweaty towel at her. The younger Queen dodged it, laughing, but looked back at Felicity seriously. "Really, though. You look great and the views are already pouring in."

She showed Felicity her phone, her perfectly manicured finger pointed to the climbing number of likes underneath the looping video. And comments. So many comments were rolling in. Felicity closed the app, refusing to read any of them.

The screen flickered, her caller ID showing Lyla's name as the phone vibrated. She glanced up at Thea, unsurprised to see pure excitement radiating out of the teenager as she noticed the call coming in. She wished she felt some of that excitement instead of the sudden dread that had settled in her stomach.

Felicity bit her lip and answered it. "Hey, Lyla," she said. She moved over to her gym bag to get a little privacy, but she could feel everyone watching her.

"I just got off the phone with Ray," Lyla said, and Felicity could tell she hadn't gotten the part just from the sound of her manager's voice. "He wanted you, Felicity. The studio vetoed his decision."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "They wanted someone with a bigger name, right?"

"They wanted Isabel Rochev, but it's not over yet," Lyla said, her tone reassuring. "Ray's fighting them on it. He begged me to keep you available."

"What did you say?"

"I said we were looking at other projects, but would keep it under consideration."

Felicity sat down beside her bag. "Are we looking at other projects?"

"I know how much you want this one, Felicity," Lyla said, her voice softening. "I'm gonna do everything I can to get it for you."

Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them away. "Thank you, Lyla. I appreciate it."

Her manager hung up quickly, saying she needed to make a few calls. Felicity stretched her legs in front of her, robotically tucking her things back into her gym bag.

"Hey."

She looked over to see Oliver crouching down beside her. She noticed that John and Thea had made themselves scarce, so it was just the two of them. "Hey," she said, slipping her phone into the side pocket of her bag.

"What happened?" His voice was soft and she knew he already had an idea.

"The studio wants Isabel Rochev." She shrugged. "I knew it was a long shot. This movie… It's gonna be big. They're gonna want the name power."

"Isabel Rochev doesn't hold a candle to you," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, surprised by how much his words comforted her.

"Ray thinks so too, I guess," she said, giving him a small smile. He tilted his head questioningly and she continued, "He's fighting them on the decision. He wants me."

Oliver lowered himself into a seated position beside her, stretching his legs out next to hers. "He'd be making a mistake if he didn't."

She leaned her head onto his shoulder, the tears stinging behind her eyelids. "I know it's stupid," she said. "Getting this upset about a part."

"It's your career, Felicity."

"I know, but it's just a part. There are lots of parts, I just…" She looked up, meeting his gaze. "I really wanted this one, you know?"

He nodded, his hand coming up to smooth her escaped curls back from her face, and she snuggled further into his shoulder.

"What do you say we get some ice cream?" he said after a minute.

"I'm not supposed to eat ice cream." Felicity pulled back, wiping at her face. God, she must look like a mess. Sweaty and now snotty, too.

Oliver just smiled. "I won't tell if you won't."

She laughed, and wiped her face again. "Okay, sure."

He jumped up, way more agile than he had any right to be, and pulled her to her feet. She wrapped her arms around his bicep, putting her head back on his shoulder, and he led her off to find ice cream.

An hour later, when she was getting in her car to leave, her phone vibrated with a new text. Pulling it out of its place in the side pocket of her gym bag, she saw a message from Oliver on her screen.

 _Text me so I know you're home safe._

Oliver could be infuriating when he wanted to be, but he was also probably one of the sweetest people she'd ever known. She'd been so reluctant to spend any real time with him when they'd first met. After today, she kind of felt lucky to be able to call him a friend. He'd spent the last hour with her, eating ice cream and joking around, trying to make her feel better, and then he goes and texts her this… She almost teared up again at the sentiment.

On a whim, she clicked open Instagram and tapped on the video Thea had uploaded earlier. She hadn't watched it. To be honest, she'd almost completely forgotten about it between the phone call with Lyla and the ice cream. She watched it now, smiling to herself at the way they worked seamlessly together. At the way Oliver grinned up at her while she panted. At the way they high fived like dorks afterwards.

Thea had captioned it, #truepartnership.


	18. Double Dates

**Felicity (3:05pm):** I can't believe that happened. Is there a dumpster out back I can crawl into?

 **Iris (3:06pm):** It wasn't THAT bad. And now you get to share a coffee with Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn!

 **Felicity (3:06pm):** Yeah because I dumped a LATTE on his laptop! Omg. Not only did I embarrass myself but I ruined a perfectly good laptop doing it!

 **Iris (3:08pm):** Your strange relationship with technology aside, it doesn't look like Oliver's very put out by your klutziness.

 **Felicity (3:08pm):** Only because I offered to fix it for him. Thank god it wasn't worse or I would have had to buy him a new one.

 **Iris (3:12pm):** He's a billionaire. Pretty sure he can afford one himself.

 **Felicity (3:12pm):** Not the point.

 **Iris (3:15pm):** No. The point is you are having coffee with two of Starling City's most eligible bachelors. Enjoy it. And stop texting me to avoid small talk. My break's in ten. I'll come over and say hi.

 **Felicity (3:15pm):** Fine. Bring me a blueberry muffin when you do! Please :)

###

 **Iris (1:37pm):** Those idiots came in looking for you again.

 **Felicity (1:39pm):** They're not idiots.

 **Iris (1:39pm):** They are, but they're cute so everyone gives them a pass. And also because they're, you know, ridiculously rich...

 **Felicity (1:39pm):** What happened to Starling City's most eligible bachelors, huh?

 **Iris (1:40pm):** Now I know why they're still bachelors. Because they're idiots. Oliver is much less of an idiot then his friend though so it's okay that you like him.

 **Felicity (1:40pm):** I don't like him. We met once. They probably just came in for coffee. Because, you know, it's a coffee shop...

 **Iris (1:40pm):** Felicity Smoak, are you mocking me? Look at you! And the reason I know that they were looking for you and not just some coffee was because Oliver said "Hey where's your friend?" And as far as he's concerned I only have one friend so… he was looking for you.

 **Felicity (1:41pm):** He probably just needed more help with his laptop.

 **Iris (1:41pm):** Maybe. I gave him your number so I guess we'll see ;)

 **Felicity (1:41pm):** Whaaaaat?! Iris!

 **Felicity (1:43pm):** Iris! You did not give OLIVER QUEEN my number!

 **Felicity (1:54pm):** He called. He DID want help with his laptop. So ha! We're meeting at Jitters tomorrow.

 **Iris (2:00pm):** Wear something nice. Not the panda shoes.

 **Felicity (2:00pm):** What's wrong with my panda shoes?!

 **Iris (2:00pm):** Nothing. But you have a coffee date with Oliver QUEEN. Maybe wear something a little less kindergarten teacher and a little more "I haven't had sex in a year take me now."

 **Felicity (2:00pm):** It has NOT been a year. And I don't even know what you're talking about right now.

 **Iris (2:01pm):** I'm talking about how you agreed to meet for coffee again to "fix his laptop" when you could have just told him to drop it off in the IT department. Of his family's company. Where you work.

 **Felicity (2:01pm):** Zip it.

 **Iris (2:01pm):** Okay fine. It's zipped.

 **Iris (2:01pm):** Wear that red dress. The one with the cutout on the chest.

 **Felicity (2:02pm):** *sigh* fine. But for the record I think you're greatly overestimating my appeal.

 **Iris (2:02pm):** We'll discuss your "appeal" and how very wrong you are about it later. Breaks over. See you at home.

###

 **Iris (12:06pm):** He's late.

 **Felicity (12:06pm):** Only a few minutes. Geez it's like you're the one he's standing up or something.

 **Iris (12:06pm):** I wouldn't be as upset if he was standing ME up. But you are wasting your day off sitting here waiting for him and he's late.

 **Iris (12:10pm):** Ten minutes late AND he brings his idiot friend with him?! Oh man this guy is losing points.

 **Felicity (12:17pm):** I like Tommy. He's funny. And Oliver apologized for being late.

 **Iris (12:30pm):** So what's wrong with the laptop?

 **Iris (12:31pm):** Omg the way he's looking at you! He's practically got heart eyes. Tell me again how he only needed help with his computer.

 **Felicity (12:39pm):** It had a virus. And not a creepy porn virus, thank god. I don't think I could have seen THAT on his computer and not said something inappropriate.

 **Felicity (12:39pm):** And he does not have heart eyes. Stop being ridiculous.

 **Felicity (12:49pm):** Come say hi when you get a chance. Oliver just invited us out for drinks tonight to say thank you. Wanna go?

 **Iris (12:49pm):** I'll be over in ten. Tell him hell yes.

###

 **Iris (8:32pm):** Sweetie, I love you and I want good things for you and that includes flirting with Oliver Queen at the bar but please. PLEASE. Get your butts back here now.

 **Iris (8:37pm):** If this idiot hits on me one more time I swear…

 **Felicity (8:37pm):** I'm sorry! There's only one bartender and it's taking forever. But Oliver's smile, Iris, his smile!

 **Iris (8:37pm):** I know. I can see it in all it's blinding glory from here. Just hurry please. Tommy just asked me if I've ever been on a private plane and then winked like 6 times. What do women see in this jerk?!

###

 **Tommy (8:37pm):** Dude this chick is NOT into me.

 **Tommy (8:37pm):** Has that ever happened before?

 **Tommy (8:37pm):** I can't remember it ever happening before.

 **Oliver (8:38pm):** I am having a nice time talking to Felicity. Can you please stop texting me?

 **Tommy (8:38pm):** Worried about it looking like some chick's blowing up your phone?

 **Oliver (8:39pm):** Well I wasn't!

 **Tommy (8:39pm):** Relax just tell her it's me. And ask her why her friend has such poor taste in men.

 **Oliver (8:40pm):** Yeah I'm not asking her that. Leave Iris alone. Or better yet, be yourself. She'd probably like you.

 **Tommy (8:40pm):** I am being me. Adorable and perfect.

 **Tommy (8:40pm):** I'm every girl's dream. They said so last week in that poll on the Starling Snoops website.

 **Oliver (8:42pm):** Online hot or not polls don't impress girls like Felicity and Iris. You know that, why are you being weird? Is it because of Laurel? Because you guys only broke up a couple weeks ago. It's okay if you're not ready.

 **Tommy (8:42pm):** It's got nothing to do with that. We just don't get along. Hurry up with the drinks already.

###

 **Felicity (10:45am):** Last night could have gone better huh?

 **Iris (10:48am):** Last night was great. Oliver really likes you. He drove us home and walked us to the door. Who even does that anymore?

 **Felicity (10:48am):** Yeah, but you and Tommy… You practically ripped his head off in front of the whole bar.

 **Iris (10:48am):** He made a sexist joke! What was I supposed to do?!

 **Felicity (10:49am):** I'm not saying you're wrong. But Oliver told me that Tommy was acting strange last night. And he texted me to apologize. Again. Maybe give him a chance next time?

 **Iris (10:49am):** What next time…?

 **Felicity (10:49am):** The tonight next time?

 **Felicity (10:50am):** Please. Please. Please! Oliver asked me out again, but he specifically invited you because he said Tommy wanted to make up for how he acted.

 **Iris (10:50am):** No.

 **Felicity (10:50am):** Please?

 **Iris (10:51am):** Ugh. Fine but let the record show that I don't like this.

###

 **Iris (11:47pm):** Where. Are. You?

 **Felicity (11:59pm):** Sorry. Um… Oliver and I are actually gonna go. Are you okay by yourself?

 **Iris (11:59pm):** I wish I was by myself! Tommy's being even weirder tonight than last night. He's being overly nice and he won't shut up.

 **Iris (12:00am):** But sure. The only reason I came was to try to get you laid so mission accomplished! Have fun ;)

###

 **Oliver (12:00am):** Felicity and I are going back to my place. Please be nice to Iris.

 **Tommy (12:00am):** Don't leave yet. I'm totally blowing this. I need a wingman.

 **Tommy (12:00am):** There's an awkward silence and you know I don't do well with awkward silences. I'm overcompensating.

 **Tommy (12:01am):** Ollie!

 **Tommy (12:01am):** Fine. Go have sex. Forget all about your best friend.

 **Oliver (12:05am):** Just have a drink and try to let her do most of the talking. And make sure she gets home alright.

###

 **Felicity (8:55am):** Last night was amazing. We're going out again tonight. Tell you all about it when I get home.

 **Felicity (9:27am):** Uh… Iris? Where are you?

 **Felicity (9:35am):** Iris!

 **Felicity (9:45am):** Do I need to call the police? Because if I do you're dad is gonna be really pissed at me for leaving you alone last night and I really don't want to get into that discussion with him so please just text me back to let me know you're alive!

 **Iris (9:48am):** Sorry. I'm fine.

 **Felicity (9:48am):** …?

 **Iris (9:49am):** Don't ask.

 **Felicity (9:49am):** You know I have to ask. I can't help myself.

 **Iris (9:53am):** ...I was with Tommy.

 **Felicity (9:53am):** !?

 **Iris (9:53am):** I know. Shut up. I have a hangover and even your exclamation points are giving me a headache.

 **Felicity (9:53am):** I thought you hated him?

 **Iris (10:02am):** I don't HATE him. He can just be… annoying.

 **Felicity (10:05am):** And he wasn't annoying last night?

 **Iris (10:05am):** Well not once he started using his mouth for something besides talking ;)


End file.
